Ironically So
by Stasya
Summary: [AU] My life used to be bearable, till seventh year with James. If I try, maybe, just maybe, I'll make it out of Hogwarts alive. LEJP
1. Prologue

**Alternate Version of Prologue**

_You can find the original version of this chapter as you scroll past this edited version. I decided to edit this chapter as many people found it boring, and I suspected that the original prologue was driving away potential readers with its boring prose. This new one might not interest you very much, but I thought it was slightly better than the old version…_

Stasya

* * *

Colours danced across the indigo sky to paint a canvas of sunset. A seagull circled an isolated beach once, twice, flew away. Beautiful as the scene was, no one was present to admire it in its beauty. But that didn't matter. It'd be back the next day, and the next day, and the next, and for all the next days of eternity. 

A streak of black across the canvas was the first one to announce nighttime. More streaks came, fast and bold, adorned with twinkling stars, otherwise known as cold, otherworldly witnesses to the world, or symbols of light and hope. A tawny owl was the first sign of real life to soar across the canvas of inky black sky, and then dipped below, swooped down, and down and down…finally halting expertly at a stained glass window with music blaring from behind.

A girl, slim and average of height, was the first to approach the brown creature. Fussing and cooing over it, she gingerly untied an unusually thick letter from its legs, opened the letter, and wide-eyed with surprise and delight at its contents, patted the owl fondly and it was off once more into the depths of the night. Copper locks fell into her green eyes, which darkened ironically, as she read the last line of the letter, and stormed back into her room as she contemplated her last year at school.

-

The sky was gradually darkening as a youth, not a boy but not quite a man, carefully scrutinized a mahogany broomstick lying on his bed, and decided that he was satisfied with it. He then sat at a desk, grabbed something from a shelf, and flipped open a leather covered photo book, turning the pages till he came to an empty one, and proceeded to slot in pictures of a rat, a dog, a stag and a weary looking boy of his age with sandy brown hair.

At that moment a curiously coloured owl, decidedly brown but red in some places and white in others, chose to come rapping at his window. With a casual gait unlike that of the girl who had so eagerly rushed to her mail, he strode over and ripped the letter away with a nonchalance that drew an indignant hoot from the owl. And his lips twisted into a dry smile as he noticed the much coveted item, and then grinned as he read the last line of the letter. But yet another line caught his attention, this time bringing out a scowl from his handsome features, and he glanced wistfully at the finely polished broom lying on his bed.

You gain some, you lose some: that's what they say after all.

He returned to the photo book and flipped to yet another page where a copper headed young girl was chatting jovially with a friend, unaware of her photographer.

* * *

**Original Version**

The setting sun cast the indigo sky into a spell of fire. Hogwarts proudly adorned the iridescent colours of the weather, basking in all Mother Nature's glory.

A blanket of velvet black slowly masked all light there was in the sky, enveloping the Earth in darkness; just like an old man with rheumatism struggling to wear his coat, then succeeding.

It was now night.

The moon shone through the clouds, the brightness seeping through in a stream of light over the dark, rippling lake.

Then the ever fickle weather changed its clothes again.

Dark clouds congregated in sky, then, almost as if they had arranged to fall at that exact time together, colourless drops fell. They pummeled towards the ground, striving to reach their destination.

The shuddering leaves huddled in fear as the raindrops battered them mercilessly, though they knew that the water would do them good…Sometimes we do not like things that can help us, for the process of helping us, or actually accepting the help, can sometimes be horrible. Just like taking medicine when one is ill.

The weather was not satisfied with just raindrops.

A bolt of lightning pierced through the sky like a white-hot knife, followed by the rumbling sound of thunder like a hungry stomach. A thunderstorm.

The sky was a violent dark gray, portentous in its gloom, dangerous in its furious thunder and lightning, and vicious in its large drops of water that smacked to the ground in a sudden forceful moment and veiled the air in a misty cloud of rain.

The trees reached towards the sky beseechingly, almost as if they were begging for it to halt the storm.

The weather was tired. It had had enough for the night; it needed sleep. The next day would be a long one. It fell asleep.

The storm subsided.

Hours later, the new day dawned in hues of pink, orange, red and gold. The young sun blinked uncertainly, unsure of its newfound power…

It was the first of September.


	2. Tiny Ironies

"I'm so infuriated, Adelaide. James is…he's Head Boy! You _know _how much I loathe him, with all his trying to win my heart and all. How can I possibly spend one whole year sharing the same dormitory with him?"

I had discovered the Room of Requirement in my first year, and I hadn't told anyone about it. Not a single person. I, a scrawny first year scurrying to find her Charms classroom, totally unfamiliar with the enormous Hogwarts castle, had come across this miraculous room while trying to escape from Peeves and entering the first room that came in sight…

Adelaide was, well, a school ghost the same age as me when she died. I had the unfortunate event of running right _through _her when I happened to run into the Room of Requirement in my first year – she was downright offended – in my desperation to duck water bombs Peeves was pelting at me, as he had followed me into the room. It's rather difficult to watch where you're going when all you're concentrating on is getting _away _from something, not _to _somewhere.

Anyway, Adelaide was a prefect during her days at Hogwarts, and she somehow had managed to scare Peeves away using this "prefect voice" of hers. Then she turned to me and said, "Late for class, are you?"

I nodded. "I…I don't think I saw you at the Welcome Feast. Why weren't you there?" I managed.

Adelaide ran a slender hand through her hair. "The sight of all these students…It depresses me. Reminds me of the time I arrived at Hogwarts," she said vaguely. Then she perked up again.

"You ran _right through _me," she accused me, fixing me with that icy stare that could probably freeze water, literally. "It's a very unpleasant feeling for something to run right through a ghost, you know. Like your stomach is being churned with those things muggles call egg beaters. Like a whole bucket of icy water is poured onto your head."

"But…but…" I squeaked.

"Please don't squeak," Adelaide sighed, "My ears are _very _sensitive."

I managed to tone down my voice without mumbling, god knows how. "But, don't you feel the same when you float through walls and stuff?"

Adelaide gave me such a powerful glare that I took a few steps back in alarm. "No." she replied matter-of-factly. I didn't see how she wouldn't feel that way if she floated through a wall. I mean, it was still something going through her, wasn't it?

"Anyway, my name is Adelaide. And you?" Our little talk rapidly switched topics, with her introducing herself in a pleasant voice utterly different from the voice she had been using just now.

"Lily."

She inclined her head a little and smiled complaisantly. "You're late for class, aren't you?" she continued.

I nodded.

"First lesson in the morning, if I'm not wrong?"

I nodded again.

"Two turns should do it…I'll be able to talk to you more, then." She nodded to herself, and then picked up a tiny gold object from a cabinet behind her, and turned it two times…

All of a sudden, my vision blurred. Colours swirled in dizzy arcs before me, twisting and turning into various shapes…

Then everything was alright again. Well, my physical – or perhaps mental – surroundings, at least. The aftermath of whatever had just happened was taking its toll on me – in the form of a headache.

"What was-" I began.

"It's a time turner. It…turns time. You can go to the future or the past with this little treasure." Adelaide patted the hourglass fondly. "I found it a few months before I died."

"So, how many days back in the past are we?" I asked her foolishly.

Adelaide laughed. "Not days, silly, we're just two hours back in time. You in this time are probably snoozing away in your bed now, oblivious to the fact that you're going to be late for class. I think you'd better not go and wake yourself lest you want us to have never met…"

I didn't understand a thing she was saying, but kept quiet. I had yet to get used to the prospect of magic…I wasn't born into a wizarding family, after all. But Adelaide made me feel right at home, steering me into a conversation where we talked about pleasant things.

That was in my first year. Now, seven years later at the start of my seventh year, things had changed significantly. Adelaide was my best friend and confidante, the one whom I always confided it. More than once I had gone to her when I was troubled, and vice versa…Anyway, back to the present.

Adelaide blinked.

"I suppose…I suppose that isn't too bad," she said nonchalantly.

I was dumbfounded, for a moment. _This _was the prim ex-school prefect who had delighted in accompanying me in having intellectual conversations about the bad points of James Potter since fourth year, when he had started annoying me? Well, the conversations weren't _really _intellectual, but by the standards of bitchiness, I guess they would be considered a _little _bit so.

Adelaide took advantage of my momentary silence to squeeze in a few words of her own. Actually, few would be the wrong word. It was more like…

"I haven't been cooped up in the Room of Requirement since the day I died, you know," she scoffed, "I take trips around the school, and sometimes out of school, too. James Potter isn't as bad as you think. For example, he only messes up his hair when he's around you; you make him more self-conscious of himself, as everyone knows. Besides, he doesn't bully people as much as before. He _likes _you, I'm sure you know that."

I found my perfect rebuttal. "He's an egoistic, hubristic, self-centered, and arrogant –"

I'd forgotten that Adelaide always won our little debates, though. "That was in last year, the year before, the year before, the year before, the year before, and the year before. Now he's seventeen, and the new Head Boy. Don't you think he'd have matured?" she cut in.

"He'll always stay the same as the bullying toe-rag, that's for sure." I insisted stubbornly.

"How do _you _know?" she challenged.

"I …" Surprise washed over me like cold rain when I found myself unable to rebut her this time.

"That's right," Adelaide said smugly. Her tone denoted her confidence of winning our debate. "You don't know."

I stared at her. Confusion and disbelief churned in my stomach. "Touché," was all I managed in response.

But it was as good as admitting that my opinions of Potter were mere sweeping statements.

I forced a wry smile and made to leave the room.

"Goodnight," Adelaide called out as I opened the door.

"Goodnight," I whispered, my voice almost cracking for some reason I did not know.

I didn't think she heard me.

* * *

James was still awake when I entered the Heads' Dormitory. He turned his eyes on me as the portrait door made a distinct creak when I opened it, and his eyebrows rose.

"Hey, Evans," he started, "You know, patrol-"

"Goodnight," I cut him off abruptly. I was about to enter my room when he spoke,

"Patrol ended half an hour ago…Where've you been during that time? I looked for you but couldn't find you." He cut in.

I froze in my tracks. He had noticed! My voice rose an octave higher; "Really? I must have misread the time on our schedule, then."

"C'mon, Evans, you can tell me if you were making out with some guy in a broom closet…" he teased.

I only realized that he had got up from his place on the couch and was coming towards me when I felt his breath on the back of my neck. "I was _not _making out with _anybody_," I protested, whirling around in case he'd take advantage of the fact that my back was facing him to try one of his…advances.

He didn't seem surprised at my sudden movement. He must be used to that; being both a chaser and seeker. A fool could tell that you'd need excellent reflexes to play both positions.

"Perhaps next time, we should do our patrols together. At least I won't have to stay up waiting for you…" he suggested.

He was staying up to wait for me? Wow. But, to go on our patrols together…I probably wouldn't be able to visit Adelaide anymore, not with him around. Adelaide was a secret. _My _secret. That was excluding the fact that James was an obnoxious pain in the neck.

Still, what I was most concerned about was not being able to visit Adelaide. But then again, we weren't exactly on good terms at the present.

"Fine," I replied pensively at last, "Just this once. We'll see how it goes first. If anything, _anything _goes wrong, like a prank or something, you can forget about going patrolling together again."

"Deal," James agreed. I could tell that he was trying to act nonchalant, though really delighted. "I promise you that everything will be perfectly fine."

I nodded, then entered my room and shut the door. James did the same.


	3. The Plural of Discovery

"So, how's being the new Head Girl like? Stressful?" Erika Granger quizzed me in between mouthfuls of toast at breakfast.

"Fine, but only because there isn't much homework during the first week of school…McGonagall and the others want us to have a brief taste of freedom before we launch onto the serious work. With those NEWTS coming up, I'm grateful to them…"

"So…you're implying that things _will _get harder sooner or later?"

"Yes."

Honestly, I couldn't help feeling that the position of Head Girl was, to me, more of a curse than a blessing. Initially I had been exuberant on discovering my new promotion, but as I considered the pros and cons of the job, I was rather…reluctant to take it up, though I knew I had to.

But Professor Dumbledore had given me this job, and I was going to do it well, by hook or crook. That shiny badge on my uniform gleamed proudly, reflecting the sunlight streaming in through the windows…

"I've told you about my brother, haven't I - The one who's a dentist, and not magic like me?" Erika prompted another conversation.

"Richard Granger, if I'm not wrong?" I quizzed. She nodded.

"He married his dentist girlfriend during the holidays, and I took some pictures of the wedding…Do you want to see them?" she continued.

I didn't feel like replying, but I felt her eyes boring into me, so I did. Erika's gaze was almost…scary. "Why not tomorrow? I'm kind of busy today, with patrolling, homework, and I have extra muggle studies class today."

Erika nodded sympathetically. "You poor dear," she laughed, mimicking Madam Redfield, the nurse, in her obviously falsely sugar coated, high pitched voice. "But really," she added, her tone serious now, "You ought to drop some subjects. NEWTS are really stressful. Why else would they call them NEWTS? Trust me, it's simpler that way."

"Perhaps I will," I responded distractedly.

* * *

I loved charms. They were so simple, almost…quaint. A flick of the wand and a simple incantation, and you'd have a singing rose or a quill levitated into the air. They were perfectly easy.

Thus I could not understand how other students ever found charms hard.

There was this girl in Ravenclaw, Amelia Tyler if I wasn't mistaken. She was a whiz at charms; as good as me, I daresay… We didn't know each other, but delighted in answering questions posed by the charms professor faster than each other. I expected her to, you know, just fall behind in charms all of a sudden, for that was always the case. Pupils who got close to being better than me at charms would always fall behind suddenly. I didn't exactly know why, but I was thankful for that. I wanted to be the reigning queen at charms in my year until I left Hogwarts…

But she _didn't _fall behind. It was quite odd, for I wasn't used to having a long-term rival. She was…excellent. Sometimes better than me, but our standards were about the same. She couldn't have been that good at charms in the past, for Gryffindor, my house, almost always had charms with Ravenclaw, and I would have noticed her if she was that good before.

I was beginning to feel slightly jealous. Jealous not only of her intelligence, but also of her good looks. My feminine instincts were starting to take control of me. Guys would say that I was beautiful, but that was before they met Amelia, in my opinion.

She was stunning. She could have been a model. Her hair was a rich, chestnut brown, her features delicate, and her figure curvy in all the right places. And her eyes, - they were a brilliant, piercing blue.

As for myself; I always felt awkward and out of place with my red hair and green eyes which stuck out like a sore thumb in a crowd. My figure wasn't as shapely as Amelia's, and I always thought of my nose as too large. To think people still thought me beautiful.

The bell rang; now was our free period before dinner. I quickly jotted down the homework for the day, packed my bag, and promptly left the classroom.

* * *

James walked over to my seat during dinner, together with his crew – Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin.

"Hey, Evans. D'you think we could sit here? We were unfortunate enough to arrive late, and as you can see, all the seats are occupied…" he queried.

I tilted my head a little to look past him. True; the seats were all occupied, save for exactly four seats beside me. I nodded grudgingly, silent despite my woes. James would surely annoy me for the rest of the meal, curse my kind heart…

The quartet subsequently plopped down on the chairs and started piling food of all sorts on their plates. I noticed that James, however, refrained from meat. "Are you a…vegetarian?" I asked him hesitantly.

He glanced at me in surprise. "Yeah, I've been one since fifth year, since my mum died. I've been to depressed to eat meat since, for some reason…"

"Oh," I said quietly, "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He averted his gaze and continued eating.

I thought I knew Potter inside out – as an arrogant, bullying toe-rag. But there was me, not even knowing that he was a vegetarian. It seemed like there was a lot I didn't know about him…

For the rest of the meal, I couldn't possibly help noticing that Sirius, Remus and Peter were conversing in hushed tones, regularly throwing glances in my direction. I was grateful when I finished my dinner.

As I got up to leave, James grabbed my sleeve and gently pulled me down. "Don't forget, we have patrolling tonight," he reminded me, "We'll meet in the Heads' Dormitory at…"

He stopped patiently, waiting for me to give an answer.

"Seven…seven-thirty," I decided quickly, intent on getting away from him and his friends. "Don't be late," I added. It was more like an afterthought than a scathing remark, which I initially meant it to be.

He nodded, and I promptly left the hall.


	4. Girl and Boy

My jaded eyes skimmed across the yellowing, aged page of the book. Normally this wouldn't have been so bad, but the print was impeccably small. If I read it under a dim light, I'd develop myopia the next day for sure…just like Potter.

When I was younger I had the impression that all those who wore spectacles were certain to look ugly, which was one of the reasons why I took great care of my eyes. But he, James, was different. With spectacles, he actually looked…handsome.

But of course, under the façade of good looks, he was still the arrogant idiot from fourth year.

"Evans? Are you there? Time for patrol; it's seven-twenty five."

I jumped from my position on the couch. James had done a rather good job of startling me. To think that _he _would actually be the one reminding me, when I had set the time! Embarrassment burnished my cheeks.

"Sorry," I apologized hastily.

He gave a wry smile, shrugging as though that one shrug would clear my mistake. "Let's go." He responded.

* * *

Adelaide felt ghostly tears prick her eyes again. That image of a tall, dark haired boy burned deep in her mind.

She thought he truly loved her. She thought that, he, a Slytherin, would fall in love with her, a Gryffindor. She thought that what they had was real. She _thought_.

She'd always enjoyed their kisses. They were deep, passionate, and the way his tongue roamed her mouth; the way his lips touched hers, were enough to send shivers of delight running up and down her spine.

But that final kiss had ended it all.

She remembered his cold eyes, so devoid of emotion that it was hard to believe that they had been burning with passion just moments ago, and she remembered the steely glint of that dagger as he plunged it into her.

She hadn't even screamed.

She had just stared at him with helpless, pleading eyes. "_Why_?" she had asked him, numb to everything but her emotional turmoil…

He was frightened too, and she knew it. She knew that deep inside, beneath all the knowledge of dark arts and Slytherin blood, was a vulnerable, insecure orphan.

"It's wrong…for us to be together, I mean. The rest of them keep tormenting me, saying that of Slytherin blood I shouldn't love a Gryffindor…" he choked. Tears stung his eyes now.

"Oh god, what have I done?" he moaned.

"And you listened to them…you let them… she trailed off, letting her words linger and stab his heart like he had stabbed her.

She couldn't forget how his eyes had been so cold, so unlike him…She had always thought that for all his sweetness, he should have been a Gryffindor. But at that moment, when he had stabbed her, she had seen the snake in him, his true Slytherin self.

She collapsed to the floor, wheezing heavily. He knelt down hastily and bent to kiss her, but before he could do so, her last breath shuddered in her chest, and she died.

Her life had been so short.

He let out a cry; his voice cracked with anguished.

"There is absolutely no reason why everyone else should survive when you have died," he said, clenching his fists agitatedly. His throat was thick with suppressed longing, his eyes vacant.

His wide eyes strayed to the bloodied dagger on the floor. For a moment he did nothing, and then in the exact next moment he screamed. He screamed long and harsh, the sound penetrating the silence of night within Hogwarts.

His eyes gleamed with…all kinds of expressions describable. Then, tucking the knife into his robe pocket with a liquid fluidity, Tom Riddle swept out of the room without even a back glance.

* * *

**To all fans of the Marauders, especially the numerous Sirius Black fans, I apologize for not having any Marauder activity so far. I promise that there _will _be; somewhere in future chapters (I'm writing _way _ahead of this story.). **

**I don't plan on writing until Lily and James' deaths, because this is mainly about how they got together and most of their romance. I'll continue this story a little after they graduate, and then I'll stop. Yep, that's the plan. **

**If you'd like to read my version of how Lily and James died, you can read my one-shot, "Triumph and Defeat". It's horribly written because I wrote it on the spur of the moment (It really depends what your definition of horrible is, but anyway.) so perhaps you shouldn't read it after all…**

**P.S. I'm not exactly fond of writing author's notes, so don't expect another one soon – sorry! **


	5. Marauder Talk

"Perhaps you could take your business elsewhere," the smooth voice enunciated.

"You're out after curfew, Trixie. You too, Reggie. 'fraid I'll have to deduct twenty points from Slytherin. Oh, and detention tomorrow as well. I believe Filch has been assigned to tidy up the Trophy Room; he'll probably need some help." James drawled lazily.

"The name's Regulus, _Potty_." Another male snarled, stepping forward ahead of Bellatrix, who was clearly offended at the misuse of her name.

"Ah…so the 'ickle mudblood is here as well!" Bellatrix sneered, a sinister smile warping her features.

"Actually, my name is Lily," I corrected her politely, "Besides; the word 'mudblood' isn't in the dictionary. According to Arnold Frump's Dictionary of Both the Wizarding and Muggle Community, that is."

I smirked inwardly as I noticed James' appraising expression, Regulus' scowl and Bellatrix's mixture of utter disgust and bewilderment, all the while maintaining an outwardly polite countenance.

"It's slang," Bellatrix scoffed, quickly recovering from her shock, "Or are you simply too cooped up in your little world of goody-two-shoes-ness that you don't know what slang is, either?"

"I speak good English, unlike you, Trixie." I smiled complaisantly.

Bellatrix was seething with anger. _Score! _Politeness always managed to infuriate the enemy. It irritated them to see how unaffected you were by their scathing remarks.

A wand was whipped out and held in front of me threateningly. "Watch your words, Head Girl," she hissed, "They might be your last."

"Speak for yourself," I snapped irritably, "They might be your last words at Hogwarts. You wouldn't want to get expelled in your last year, would you?"

"Another ten points from Slytherin," James stated nonchalantly. "At this rate, you Slytherins are never going to win the House Cup at the end of this year."

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at him, and then stalked off haughtily, Regulus trailing behind meekly in her wake…

It was like a weight lifted off my shoulders when I saw the pair disappear round the corner. Regulus wasn't really much to be scared of, but Bellatrix was a different case. She was…a nutcase. There was no doubt that she would become a Death Eater once she graduated, but rumours had it that she was already one.

"That was brilliant," James praised, bursting with awe, "Besides, what's Arnold Frump's Dictionary of Both the Wizarding and Muggle Community?"

I managed a weak smile, being rather unwonted to praise for being cheeky. "There never was such a dictionary," I admitted, "There never was and never will."

He stared at me in wonder. "You're a genius," he said, a wry smile etched onto his features, and eyes crinkling with humour, "Almost as good as a Marauder."

We walked on in restless silence, and I felt as though I were lifting cement blocks instead of feet. I was utterly exhausted, something I was surprised at, as I had always considered myself to handle all-nighters well. James, on the contrary, still looked very much awake.

We finally reached the Heads' common room.

He glanced my way concernedly as I yawned, hand shielding mouth. "Perhaps you should have an early night?" he suggested.

I shook my head. "I've still got an essay on Charms to do. I'll just sacrifice some sleeping time, I guess."

He threw up his hands in exasperation. "Lily, that essay is due in one week. You have ages to complete it!"

"And during that 'ages', more homework will be given. I plan to finish whatever is thrown at me before the day ends." I stated.

"Even if I throw myself at you?" he quipped, in a voice rich in coquetry. I did not reply, and he must have noticed that, for he kept silent.

We did our homework together – James had decided to do the Charms essay together with me – before a warm, crackling fire. The atmosphere was tense; the conversations hesitant.

I breezed through the essay in slightly less than an hour. It was easy; even a first year could do it, in my opinion. Surprisingly, I found James hesitating at regular intervals and frequently scratching out sentences with his quill.

"Need some help?" I astonished myself by offering to help him. He looked up at me in surprised, clearly amazed as I was.

"No thanks," he said hurriedly, and then returned to his essay. I suppressed a scowl – boys and their _infuriating pride_. It never failed to get to me.

I was startled – though I shouldn't have been, for incidents like this happened almost everyday for the past few years – when James cornered me as I was heading to my room.

"Hey, Evans, next week is a Hogsmeade weekend…Do you want to go with me?" he offered. He frowned a little, biting his lip while regret and something that might have been hope flicked across his face.

"James," I sighed, "I've declined your offers for the past three years. What makes you think I'd change my mind this time?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but I held up a hand to silence him, and then entered my room and shut the door.

* * *

James blinked, dumbfounded at Lily's declining of his offer. It wasn't like she hadn't declined before, but after all, she had actually been civil to him for the past few days, hadn't shouted at him as much, and had even apologized…He'd thought that she'd finally decided to give him a chance.

This time seemed a little different, though. For example, she hadn't regarded him in the usual icy manner. There was no shouting, or scathing remarks, and Lily sounded almost…disappointed.

Why on earth would she be disappointed when he'd asked her? He would never understand girls.

* * *

Questions swirled around in my head then discarded, meaningless. Dappled moonlight slanted through the window, casting a silver glow upon my room.

My gaze shifted to the cluttered desk. Cluttered, like my mental state of mind. I would never understand boys. Didn't he understand that I would never see him as a partner in romance? My opinion of him for the past month had been mostly favorable. He hadn't asked me out, for once. Sure, there were still the pranks, but I'd grown to accept them as part of Hogwarts life. As long as there was a Hogwarts, there would be a bunch of pranksters. It seemed fair enough. And he hadn't hexed anyone.

It was a moment when all my doubt, anger and uncomprehending culminated into one empowering moment of disappointment.

He just _had _to disappoint me just as I was at the verge of trusting him completely.

I wished he hadn't.


	6. A Literal Rival in Charms

I steered clear of James for a week, save for the times when we had to patrol together. Nothing had happened for me to possibly state as a reason to go on separate patrols, so my promise was kept. I retreated into my safe haven – books and studies.

James, on the other hand, was preoccupied with Quidditch practice. The next game, according to Erika, was merely two weeks away. Ravenclaw was their opponent for the game, and according to Erika again, it had quite a solid team this year as opposed to previous years.

I had myself wondering why I didn't have those one-sided fights with James anymore. I seemed to have wearied of such things; shouting, I mean.

And as for James, that event, however insignificant to others may have seemed, had seemingly shaken him up. He had stopped asking me out for another week; perhaps he had finally matured for good, or because he was too busy.

Rumours had it that he had gotten a girlfriend. I confirmed it personally when I had the unpleasant experience of finding him in the Heads' Common Room, engaged in a kiss with none other than Amelia Tyler. I wanted to rebuke him for bringing someone who wasn't a Head or even a prefect there, but I decided, on the spur of the moment when I wasn't completely myself, not to do so. Without being seen, I had snuck out of the room.

While I should have been happy that it would probably spell the end of his asking me out, I wasn't. I reassured myself that my emptiness was probably contributed to by the fact that my rival in Charms had snagged the guy who had been asking me out for the past three years; not that I minded much anyway, or so I thought.

The final straw came when Amelia Tyler scored three marks higher than me in the major Charms test of the first school term. I was falling off the edge of my tether…Snapping.

Now I was placed _second _in Charms in the level. I swear that I'd seen Amelia throw a smug glance in my direction, then look away quickly.

Professor Flitwick held me back after class.

"Now, Miss Evans," he squeaked in the most serious voice a high-pitched fellow could muster, "Your performance in this test isn't exactly bad, but it isn't up to your usual standard either. Elementary charms such as the Fidelius Charm are a hundred per cent possible for you to explain in your words, but that was one thing which you couldn't do in your paper! I would like to ask you, Miss Evans…"

He fixed me with a quizzical look, then cleared his throat and continued, "Is anything wrong?"

I stared at him open-mouthed, and then replied blandly yet truthfully, "I…don't know."

Seeing Professor Flitwick's alarmed expression, I added quickly, "Perhaps Amelia Tyler is just better than me?"

He sighed, and then admonished me, "This isn't a case of being the best in Charms, Miss Evans! _This is about your falling standard_. You have been an excellent student in Charms since your first year, Miss Evans. I want you to retain your standard, but currently you are bordering the average line. You once said that you wanted to join the International Charms Association, didn't you?"

I nodded.

"Then, Miss Evans, you simply _must _bring up your standard again, and once you are once again stable in this subject, we will concentrate on improving it even further – until it reaches the standard of the ICA. This association, Miss Evans, will be recruiting potential members in Hogwarts next term. And until then, if you want to fulfill your dream, you will focus on Charms more than you have ever done. Do you understand?"

I nodded meekly.

He inclined his head slightly. "Good evening, Miss Evans."

With that, he gathered his books and stumbled out of the classroom.


	7. Blabber On

Time, marked by two brass hands, edged round the clock slowly. I was restless, tossing and turning in bed, though sleep refused to admit me. It wasn't the fact that moonlight was streaming through the windows, or the scratchy blanket which might well have been the result of a house elf trying to use magic to wash it. Magic, I had discovered, was _not _ideal for washing things. But that wasn't the case. It was the shrill mezzo soprano and unusually high tenor sounding from the common room.

* * *

James gripped his hair in frustration, eyeing before him with regret the tall figure that was his girlfriend, Amelia Tyler. Oh, why had he even given in to that kiss in the library? Life would be much easier if he'd just pushed her away…and perhaps told her that Lily was the only one in his heart. But he was soft-hearted, as all humans were. "I know I told you the password to the Heads' room, but that was in case you had anything to report to me, seeing that you're one of the _only _prefects in Seventh Year Ravenclaw. I did _not _give you the password to just come here and discuss the possibility of a Christmas Ball! That's the job of Lily and me!"

"She hates you, anyway," Amelia stated, coolly and blatantly, "Being a prefect, not to mention your girlfriend, I should only help you." She blew on a fingernail, drying the emerald nail polish she had applied while quarrelling with James. He noticed the colour. While at first glance it would've looked weird to anyone else, he was reminded of Eyes – Lily's eyes. Immediately a twinge of wistfulness overwhelmed him, piercing his heart.

James gripped the sofa tightly, anger spiraling up in a steady crescendo. "I told you, _no_!" he insisted, tone deadly.

Amelia, though persevering, knew when to back off. Her lips thinned into a grimace, then quickly spread into a smile. "We're still on for our date tomorrow, aren't we?" she whispered coquettishly, reaching out to brush his shoulder lightly. He groaned, not because he was turned on, but of frustration.

"Yeah," he mumbled wearily, "Whatever."

* * *

I heard most of their conversation, but hardly had time to process these words when James burst into my room furiously. I barely suppressed a gasp, unwonted to the light, and rubbed the nocturnal instincts from my eyes. He groaned loudly, plopping himself at the edge of the bed. Before I could put in a cutting remark, he spoke.

"Lily," he started wearily, ignoring the fact that I was dressed for bedtime, "I don't care what you say this time. We need a new password, now."

I demanded an explanation, and as he filled in parts of the conversation which I had not caught in his own words, I was quick to agree. We spent the rest of the night arguing what the new password would be.

Doubtless, a lot of sleep was lost.


	8. And We All Fall Down

I did my best to answer all the questions Professor Flitwick posed in Charms class the next day. Most of the lesson turned into a session where Amelia and I fought to raise our hands first. We would have continued, though, if Professor Flitwick hadn't gotten offended and said,

"Miss Evans and Miss Tyler, please stop raising your hands and let other students have a chance to answer!"

I was rather sullen. After all, he could just _pick _other students if he didn't want us to answer all the time, right? But I decided against voicing my thoughts. Professor Flitwick, albeit small, had a temper as fiery as mine – or maybe worse.

The rest of the day was a catastrophe. In my bid to study for Charms, I had clean forgotten about my transfiguration homework, divination homework, and astronomy homework. Astronomy was the worst.

"Miss Evans!" Professor Redmond shrieked, "That piece of homework was considered 'urgent' for a reason! Last night was the last night of the gibbous moon, which the homework is based on!"

Ah, jeez. Amelia Tyler had gotten me into trouble not only with Professor Flitwick, it seemed. As for astronomy…well, that couldn't be helped. I could only wait until the next gibbous moon.

Thank goodness the dateline for the transfiguration homework was extended. Who knew what Professor McGonagall would say if otherwise? As for divination, well, I skipped class for the first time since third year, or was it fourth year? Never mind. The professor wouldn't mind, anyway. She never did.

* * *

The windows adorning the wall were all ajar.

A breeze came wandering in, accompanied with the fresh smell of pine and lavender. I took diminutive steps, tracing random patterns on the ancient stone wall with a finger; braid swinging slightly as I went. I studied the cracks in the flagstones, some narrow, and some wide. It was like greeting old friends for me. My eyes hadn't set sight on them in weeks, yet I recognized them and their positions perfectly.

All was silent.

Sometimes I wondered if my life was complete – being seen as the good girl, the academic 'semi-genius' with near perfect scores, the Head Girl. Was it really a dream life, as others dubbed it? It felt so stressful, living up to the expectations of others. I felt like a prisoner in a small little prison cell, yet I had the key to open the door…The bars were like everything in my dream life – good results, good reputation and such.

All around me were clusters of students spending the rest of the time before curfew in friendly camaraderie. Blurs of colours drifted past me, my downcast eyes oblivious to all the commotion. I knew they were there surrounding me, some casting curious glances in my direction, but I didn't care. I thought it silly of me, moping around because of a rival in Charms, but yet I didn't feel like doing so otherwise.

Sometimes I wondered if that was the only thing I worried about.

I wanted to break free from the ropes that held me back, to see the things beyond discipline, to…live. My life was monotonous – too _strained_. I didn't want a monotonous life. I wanted a life that I could fully enjoy.

I came to the foot of the stairs - solid, stone steps that twisted and turned and spiraled, finally reaching the top of the astronomy tower. It seemed to take me an age to reach the top, each step taking forever to climb, as I made my ascent slowly.

The air was pleasantly cool at the top. The view from there was absolutely brilliant. I could see the lush, green hills afar, clouds scrawny from the heavy downpour previously drifting over the peaks in great, rolling mists. The Forbidden Forest looked as foreboding as ever, the dense canopy possibly shielding eeriness of any sort down below.

I leant against the parapet gingerly, fearful of the appalling height. My stomach growled ever so slightly, but I had no intention of going for dinner. I needed time…time to _think_. Yet I was in no mood for the latter; who would, in such a comfortable situation? I allowed myself to sink into quiescence, wondering at the beauty of the scenery, and pondering what could possibly lie in the forest…And slowly, the setting sun sank into hues of red, orange and gold, spilling its brilliance everywhere as it made its descent.

Night fell fast. As the seconds ticked past, stars spun slowly across the velvet black sky. Silvery moonlight gave the hills, forest, – everything – a mystic glow. Such was the magic of night.

A gong sounded, indicating that it was five minutes before curfew. Alas, all good things must come to an end…I gathered my scattered thoughts to leave, reluctantly. But as I reached the steps, a voice called out.

"You don't really have to leave just because it's near curfew, you know."

The tone was soft, but in the silence it seemed loud. Either way, I was startled.


	9. James Potter, Aged Seventeen

I whirled around in a split second. A tall figure I could not recognize yet – standing in the shadows. His poise held nothing for me to be suspicious of. It did not even seem menacing. It had that…nonchalant semblance about it. The broad shoulders revealed that the figure was a male.

He stepped forward slowly, and flaming torch on the wall shed light on his face, little by little, till I saw who he was.

"James?" my brow furrowed. "How long have you been there?"

Was he blushing? I couldn't tell, not in the darkness. "I saw you climbing up the stairs, so I just followed you," he explained, a bit defensively.

"Why did you follow me in the first place?" I was furious in my indignance.

"I just did, ok? What's your problem?" he snapped, a red flush rising in his cheeks steadily. He wore an expression I found impossible to discern, hazel eyes concentrated on me with fierce scrutiny.

I shifted my gaze uneasily, proceeding to descend the steps. But he placed a hand on my arm, guiding me otherwise, leading me to the parapet. I did not know why I did not resist. Perhaps I couldn't be bothered to. Perhaps I was scared. Perhaps I didn't really mind…

I did not react when he drew me closer to him, either. Together we gazed at the gray world unfolded before us, flooded with hush moonlight. Silence hung in the air like a heavy veil, and the air itself was seemingly holding its breath in anticipation. All was still, suspended in calm.

He was the first to speak. "You like it here, don't you?" It was a rhetorical question by his tone, but he nudged me gently, prompting me to answer. I nodded hesitantly, unsure of what to expect next.

I searched for clouds in the sky, but could find none. No clouds to hide the beauty of the crescent moon. No clouds to hide the simple, miniature brilliance of the stars. No clouds to hide the sky.

In such beauty, I should have been perfectly at ease. But I wasn't. How could I possibly be, knowing that the one I had loathed since fourth year was standing close to me, too close for comfort, and also knowing that I was out after curfew?

Thus I broke away. I fixed my eyes determinedly on the ground, but I could still feel his eyes boring into me – not with adoration, but with a quizzical, questioning look… "I have to go," I murmured.

And I left the tower.

* * *

James broke, inwardly, staring at the slender figure with hair that streamed like fire, and eyes that glittered like emerald stones. He should've known that it was too good to be true. When he had taken her in his arms, he didn't dare to believe that she wasn't resisting. She wasn't, but she had left anyway.

Sweet, beautiful Lily – the girl he was so enamored with. Couldn't she see that he had matured? He felt as if he couldn't be more mature than he was. The new maturity he had developed over the summer came with a curiously unwonted sureness that Lily would surely fall for his charms, what with his apparently deflated head… But she hadn't.

All the Marauders had matured. Even the brooding yet roguish Sirius had matured, Peter too. And Remus had always been mature. He had been the last one to emerge from the cradle of childhood, growing to be almost…grown up.

The Marauders had never been so serious about life before.

But of course, the pranks persisted. They were their trademark, their cause, their reason. They were the spark of mirth in that dull, dreary world of maturity, their reminder to keep their childhood alive, to keep the flame alight. To protect it from the wind and rain, the demands of adulthood.

Seventeen was a difficult age.

* * *

" Adelaide?" I took diminutive steps; arms crossed gingerly, strands of hair falling into my eyes.

Then I felt as if a thousand heated pokers were burning into my back. Colours swirled in a frenzied circular motion before me, flashing before me in bright, blinding shades. The laughter came. The maniacal laughter of someone tormented, someone racked with anguish. Dust smothered my nostrils and made it hard to breathe, but I managed. And when I felt as if I was about to lose consciousness…

It all ended as quickly as it had come.

I collapsed to the ground, choking, spluttering and wheezing. " Adelaide!" I cried out, shutting my eyes as the laughter rang in my ears again. What was this…torture? What was going on?

She stepped out of the wall expressionlessly, dark ringlets framing her clearly defined features. Her gaze flicked over to me.

Her eyes widened.

"Lily!"

She knelt by my side hurriedly, offering soothing words of comfort, for as a ghost, there was nothing much she could do to cure me of my physical pain. "I'm so sorry," a tear trickled down her cheek, though her eyes were vacant. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…I didn't expect it, honest, Lily! Do forgive me!"

I gaped at her. She looked…broken. What had happened to the strong-willed Adelaide she'd known? The Adelaide who refused to cry in front of others? And…what was that part of forgiveness? Surely she wasn't responsible for whatever had happened?

"I'm so sorry, Lily! I was just _so _angry, so hurt…You'll forgive me, won't you, please? Huh?" Adelaide pleaded with me, tears making dark runnels down her cheeks.

I didn't know what to do. I didn't understand anything at all. Thus I simply told her that she was forgiven, though I didn't exactly know what I was forgiving her for.


	10. Tested

I talked to Adelaide the next day, when she had recovered from goodness knew what. Her gray eyes observed me, assessing me. We had a long talk. I told her all that had happened that night at the Astronomy Tower, and as she hunched her shoulders pensively, I thought over the happenings once more.

"_You like it here, don't you?"_

"_I have to go,"_

At that moment, I hated myself. I could sense the hurt in his eyes - the pain, the longing, and the despair. I truly hated myself for making James taste bitter, salty misery. But why? I didn't exactly delight in the sadistic pleasure of making him feel upset, but I never truly cared about what he felt when he was turned down by me in the past.

How ironic it was.

All her thoughts formed a sort of knot in her forehead. "Why did you leave?" she demanded.

Why did I leave? I bit my lip hesitatingly, "I didn't feel comfortable with him. You know how it is with him and me, I don't like him, and he was having his arm around me and all…It was utterly awkward."

"You didn't even resist when he drew you close to him…" she pointed out, "You didn't even scream at him!"

"It was totally unexpected! I just got…carried away. It's like, you know, how you sub-consciously allow yourself to do something because you can't be bothered to do otherwise?"

Adelaide smirked. "Things are changing around here, Lily. Do try to adapt to them," she commented lightly.

And she was gone.

* * *

"Alright, class!" Professor Flitwick announced, "The Charms test is about to commence! All pieces of parchment and books off the table, and get your quills and ink ready. Separate your tables, please! Those who cheat will be sent to the Headmaster's office immediately!"

Amelia shot me a look of utter scorn as the test papers were being given out, brushing back her perfectly groomed brown tresses. I furrowed my brow. Since when had we, or at least she, been stooping to public displays of scorn? Professor Flitwick nodded knowingly at me, before announcing, "You may now start!"

The paper was harder than I had expected.

I clenched my teeth in silent torment as I struggled – yes, struggled – to answer the questions, crossing and uncrossing my legs while in the process managing to kick a table leg. I stole a glance at Amelia, who seemed completely unruffled by the difficult paper as she wrote down answers almost immediately after reading the question. I glanced at some others, who seemed as perturbed as I was.

When had I become so bad in Charms?

Sweat was trickling down my forehead when I completed the paper, and just at that moment, Professor Flitwick called out,

"Put your quills away, please!"

A flick of his wand was followed by numerous parchments flying into his outstretched arms, nearly toppling him over. He always did this after every exam or test, and it'd always end up with him falling down or nearly falling down. He never did learn his lesson.

I gathered my quills and ink bottle, preparing to leave the stuffy classroom. My blue satchel looked worn; its seams were practically bursting, I noticed despairingly. I made a note to buy a new one during the next trip to Hogsmeade.

And then Amelia came sauntering over, together with her giggling cronies and menacing bodyguards. I noticed that her hair wasn't really brown, but more like a dirty blond. She, I could tell, was trying to intimidate me by tiptoeing slightly such that she towered over me, but to no avail. It seemed rather comical. After all, I was the taller one.

A split second of realization allowed apprehension to dawn on her, causing her to notice that her "intimidation" wasn't working, so one of her "bodyguards" did the job instead. She crossed her arms, smirking smugly as she did.

"Had some trouble with the test, Head Girl?" she taunted.

I froze in mid-step, and furrowed my brow.

She leaned over to hiss, "The Ravenclaw wins, Evans. You Gryffindors were never meant to be smart!"

And then the group strode out of the classroom, blending into the menagerie of students, leaving me dumbfounded as they went. But I had no right to complain. She was right – she had won. I was a Gryffindor, never meant to possess intelligence of any sort.

I slung my satchel over my back hesitantly, then left the classroom.

But I did not notice the black haired, lanky figure that stepped out tentatively from behind a pillar beside the teacher's desk as I left.

* * *

"_Please_, James, you can't-"

A door slammed forcefully, it's aged and rusty hinges producing a distinct creak and the rattling doorknob quivering.

If you'd happened to be passing by the supposedly empty Transfiguration classroom that evening, you would have seen a disheveled Amelia and a livid James.


	11. Unlikely

All I could do was walk, feeling as though all the frustration in the world was piled on my shoulders, feeling my heart beat with such frenetic distress I could not explain. Tension hung in the air like icicles, for just now, during dinner time, letters from the Ministry had arrived.

I ran my fingers along the worn stone walls that had for centuries protected Hogwarts and its inhabitants from the elements and all dangers outside. A dark lord was rising, I had heard. Others took the matter lightly just as people in the muggle world would regard a serial murderer, not caring much for they assumed that they were safe from him. They were too nonchalant for their own good. Now that death was but a step away from them, they'd have a different perspective of life, I was sure.

I took diminutive steps, head bowed down, arms crossed. The owls had swooped in like eagles spotting their prey, eyes sharp with intelligence and descending with dignified hoots. Liesl van Tropp, the half-German Ravenclaw, surmised that they were from the Ministry, having seen the 'collars' on their feathery necks.

I had seen Remus' ashen expression, his face darkening imperceptibly as a tawny owl landed in front of him.

Then the owls had left, a crescendo of velocity as they rose, then were lost from sight in the inky black of the evening. I had not waited to watch the aftermath of the letters – I left.

"Poor Remus," I sighed as I trudged on, wondering what had happened to his family. I softened inwardly as I absent-mindedly murmured the password as I reached the Heads' room, then proceeded to enter my own.

But no sooner had I turned the doorknob than James entered the common room dejectedly. He looked sort of creased and worried, as if someone had crumpled up his face in their hand. Then he looked at me.

* * *

James froze in his tracks, staring at Lily as she turned to face him, one slender hand on the brass doorknob. He didn't exactly know _why _they were staring at each other. It just…happened. He unconsciously bit his tongue in fear of saying something wrong. At least it'd distract him; give him some time to think about what to do.

Disappointment stirred in him as she turned away. _Don't go_.

He raked a hand through his unkempt black crown, desperate to keep her attention. _Please don't go_.

The doorknob in her grasp turned ever so slightly. _What shall I say?_

James inhaled sharply. No, he couldn't tell… _Please don't make me…_

The door swung ajar, just a bit…_Lily, stay!_

Then something which he couldn't quite comprehend happened. Lily fingered a lock of flaming copper hair hesitantly, then, as if some mental battle were raging within her, half turned towards him. Her green lamps of eyes fixed his hazel ones once more. She inhaled deeply. Everything had happened in but a few seconds, but to James, it seemed that the whole scene was being played in slow motion.

_What now?_

"I hope I'm not prying, but do you…do you know what's happened to Remus?" She eyed him hopefully, nervously shifting her weight from one foot to another. Her grip on that lock of copper tightened. _And she said my running my hand through my hair was bad!_

"What…? Why?" That was something he'd promised not to tell. Remus had sworn Sirius, Peter and him to secrecy. A Marauder's promise was something which could never be broken – _never_. There'd be…consequences if he broke one.

Her gaze flicked down, then up again. "He's the only one in Gryffindor who's gotten a letter, and just now he seemed so…pale. I'm just concerned." She ended with another hopeful gaze reminiscent of the infamous, yet effective, puppy-dog pout. But Lily was capable of seeming more innocent than a puppy.

He opened his mouth a little, searching for words. Finally he settled on something that was about half the truth, yet couldn't give much away. "A family member of his is terribly ill…" he replied truthfully. He'd been intending to say more, but that would make her suspicious. "Yeah…that's it." He nodded in abstract agreement with himself.

Lily seemed to buy it. She nodded, emerald eyes soft with sympathy. "Oh," she murmured quietly, "That must be horrible."

She entered her room, and the door shut with a distinct 'click'.

James sighed, relieved. That had been close. What Remus might've said or done if he'd given anything major away… no, not the werewolf business. He gazed at the golden-red flames frolicking in the fireplace, eerily reminiscent of Lily's hair…

* * *

"We need to get them together," Erika insisted, eyes boring into Sirius and Peter, "It's been a month since the start of school, and they haven't yet gotten together! Once us seventh years finish school, they won't stand much of a chance anymore…"

"Prongs and Red, together?" Sirius exclaimed, half protesting and half chortling, "They're the most unlikely pair, ever."

"If they were really meant for each other, they'd have gotten together ages ago," Peter added nasally, "Black and Red contrast. The hair colour, I mean," he added the last bit hastily as Sirius stared at him, clear horror in his gaze.

"But if you've noticed," Erika sighed, lowering her tone a little, "They haven't fought since school started. James seems more…mature, and Lily might see the change in him, and then give him a chance!"

"Haven't fought?" Sirius snorted, "Who knows what goes on behind closed doors? They share a private common room, remember?"

"She'd rather go out with the Giant Squid than him," Peter reminisced, giggling.

"Just for laughs," Erika informed them scathingly, "Lily can't even _swim_; much less marry the _Giant Squid_."

"Oh, really?" Sirius quirked an eyebrow, finally beginning to show some interest, "You're not even her best friend – not that she has one, anyway – so how d'you know so much about her?"

"God gave me eyes and ears, which I happen to use," she deadpanned, "You'll discover that sitting beside a person in the hall can help you find out plenty of things about her."

Silence stretched between them, peppered with three near-identical glares.

Finally, Peter spoke up. "I'll help you… but you owe me ten galleons if they don't go out by the end of next month." Sirius was nonplussed, then after a few moments of deliberation, nodded grudgingly.

"But like Peter, you owe me ten galleons if they don't get together by the end of December," he warned.

Erika gave them a crooked smile, before executing a mock salute. "Yes, Sir!" she announced, though without much enthusiasm, "Though," she added thoughtfully, "It'll only be fair if both of you give me ten galleons each if they get together."

"It's a deal," was the confident reply she received from the darkly handsome teenager.


	12. Balance

"_Fleurose_."

I watched in vivid fascination as the tea-stained handkerchief upon my desk curled at the edges, folding and unfolding, and then grew a stem sprinkled with demure thorns and leaves before finally turning a deep crimson colour – a beautiful rose.

It wasn't that I hadn't seen a rose before, but that this was one of the occasions when I got a Transfiguration incantation right during my first try. Professor McGonagall stalked over briskly, leaning over and fingering with her spectacles such that they perched even lower on her noise, and then awarded me a rare smile. "Very good," she commented, before sweeping away, the hem of her emerald green robes trailing along the dusty floor.

Erika, sitting beside me, looked impressed. "I thought you hated Transfiguration," she whispered, making sure that Professor McGonagall was out of ear-shot.

"I never said that," I objected, "I just don't exactly love it."

"So… James hasn't been asking you out for a while, has he?" she drawled, smoothly changing the subject and placing emphasis on his name. _James._

I quirked an eyebrow. Strangely enough, my throat seemed to be getting drier by the moment. "I didn't know you took notice of such things," I replied calmly, nonchalantly skimming the page before me, tracing my finger along the lines as I read.

"James really likes you, you know," she persisted, her tone hushed. "Give him a chance." Though the words themselves were a request, her tone shaped them into a command. A vague sense of déjà vu jolted my senses. Had we had this conversation before? It seemed like ages since I'd last talked about James with someone else.

"I don't like him in _that _way," I insisted.

"So in exactly what way do you like him?" she countered.

"It's…I don't really like him. I don't even know him well. It's just a sort of acquaintance, a nodding acquaintance." I startled myself by keeping my composure. Normally, I'd have started giving her the cold shoulder by then.

"Well, at least that's better. During the years before you'd have started ranting and going on about how horrible he was. You wouldn't even say that you had an acquaintance with him; you'd just blatantly state that you hated him," she mused, smirking.

I felt my cheeks coloring, as though someone was doodling on them with a pink crayon. "You're not implying anything, are you?" I said hotly, abruptly ceasing my calm pretence. Thankfully I did not say it out _that _loud; only the students in front of us turned to give me an odd glance, then they turned to face the front again.

"Hm?" she responded distractedly, twirling her rose with slender fingers, "Implying anything? Of course not, Lily…I've never been the sort to, ahem, _imply_."

"I'll take your word for that."

Professor Flitwick's squeak punctured the din in the Charms classroom that afternoon. "Good afternoon, everyone. The test you took a few days ago has been marked, and as you all know, it is a very important paper…It _will _count towards your end of term report. Your NEWTS are only a few months away, so I suggest, if you have done badly in this test, to try to improve. Now, I will read out your results."

All of a sudden, the classroom had acquired a silence it was rather unwonted to. Silence hung in the air like a heavy veil, and the air itself was still as if holding its breath in anticipation. I clasped my hands together in silent prayer. I sensed Erika tense beside me, and though my eyes were not on her, I knew her hands were clenched into fists.

"Now, I'll announce the top scorer in the class…" Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. All pairs of eyes were fixed on either Amelia or me. I silently recited another prayer, while Amelia leaned back in her chair, utterly smug and composed.

"…actually, there's a tie – would the class applaud Amelia Tyler and James Potter for getting an 'Outstanding' each for this test?"

The tension was filled with the hubbub of a standing ovation. I slumped back in the chair with defeat. She _had _won, after all. I was but a muggle-born Gryffindor; how could I possibly hope to beat her? But James…how astonishing. I would never in a million years have suspected him of topping the class in Charms, never. The class held its breath once more as the professor cleared his throat.

"Not far behind, with a high 'Exceeding Expectations', is Miss Evans. Shall we have a round of applause for her?"

The sound of clapping rang in my ears like church bells, and I realized that I had been holding my breath.

* * *

It was evening now as time ebbed and flowed of its own accord. The sky's cloak had fallen, blue-black and cloudless, eyed by the gaze of a dim red moon. I was in the astronomy tower again, listening earnestly to the murmur of wind weaving through the mountains and trees, and the ripples in the blue lake, inky black with a tinge of red under the moon's illumination.

You needed the bad to balance the good, I realized. Just like _yin _and _yang_, night and day, truth and lies. I sat, cross-legged, on the cool stone floor. In my lap lay a black envelope; on the floor a piece of parchment folded into quarters, creases strict and harsh in their uniformity. I unfolded it again to reveal smudged blue ink, all runny and indiscernible. But legibility was not a purpose the parchment had to serve anymore; it had fulfilled that duty long ago, and I had memorized every single word written on it.

"So you've stopped coming to the Room of Requirement, huh?"

A familiar voice snapped the tranquil silence like a twig. I knew whom it belonged to, even without looking up. I gripped the envelope, folding it into halves, quarters, thirds and as much as it could fold. "They came again, Adelaide," I told her quietly, "The Ministry Owls." I turned to face her, and then gestured helplessly towards the parchment on the floor.

"Just like that," I related, choking on my tears, "A simple '_crucio' _and he'd died. My grandfather was always frail. The curse was too much for him. Damn Voldemort. I hate him. I HATE him!"

My emotions shifted between anger and grief as tears spewed forth in torrents, making dark runnels down my cheeks. Adelaide looked on, her mind terribly conflicted. "Perhaps," she protested "Perhaps Lord Voldemort isn't so bad. Perhaps he's…scared? He's just lead astray…he didn't have any proper upbringing, you know…"

I stared at her in disbelief and fury, and then when I spoke, my emotions were mingled with my words. "You're _defending _him? You're defending the dark lord who's been terrorizing muggle-borns? The…_deranged _fool who thinks he can gain immortality? It's asinine!"

I expected Adelaide to defend herself, but she didn't. "He isn't as bad as you think! He's…he's not what you make him out to be. So what if he wants to gain immortality? Is that bad? It's not very nice being a ghost, the mere imitation of life! I _knew _him from school, and he was my…he was my close friend. He's not a bad person! Stop degrading him!"

I gaped at her, appalled, as she left in a blur whirl of grey. _I knew him from school. _I mulled over it, trying to put two and two together and get four. _He was my close friend. _It didn't make sense. Adelaide was never the type to befriend a cold-blooded murderer.

I bit my lip, listless, eyes vacant. Then I resumed my sitting position. That argument had done nothing but put me in a tighter dilemma. The person who had killed my grandfather used to be my best friend's close friend. What tangled webs we wove. Cicadas chirped, owls hooted; but the sounds swept past me, caught in a whirlwind of ignorance, not making any impression on me whatsoever.

"Hi." A stealthy baritone pierced the silent twilight, and I jumped, startled. Before I could turn to see the bearer of the voice, James Potter had moved in front of me with fluid ease. My eyes widened as apprehension dawned on me in hazy tendrils.

"How long have you been there?" I demanded, wringing my hands in desperation and pursing my lips tightly, thinking that this was probably how Petunia felt when she got angry at me. His expression was one I was unable to discern. It was a mixture; a mixture of so many emotions.

He shrugged. "Long enough to know all there is to know," he responded cryptically, a half-smile creeping onto his lips.

I sensed my eyes blaze. I deliberately averted my gaze; there was nothing left to say, after all. He knew everything, and it would be no use trying to hide the truth any longer. Silence stretched between us like a trampoline; it was so tense and tight that you could almost _bounce _on it. "Why are you always here nowadays?" I lamented, softly. It was a rhetorical question, but he answered anyway.

"The first time, curiosity was the culprit. This time, you didn't show up when it was time for patrolling, so I figured that you'd be here."

"Oh."

"Interesting, isn't it, that your friend Adelaide was a friend of that murderer?" he stated provokingly.

"Don't tell anyone," I mumbled a feeble warning, "She'd probably like it to be a secret. She isn't guilty because of association."

"You're brilliant, Lily, really," he murmured softly, "Managing to keep a friendship under wraps for years. Was that why you were late to show up after the first patrol, because you met up with her?"

I stared at him in mild wonder. He was a smart one; I'd always known that he was a top student, but I never expected him to possess such intelligence, or should I say, _common sense_. "Yeah." I affirmed blandly.

James laughed. "Since when were we on _civil _speaking terms?" he quipped.

I glanced at him, the fact only just registering in my mind, the aftermath dragging along surprise with it. "…I don't know. But who cares? At least it's better than fighting all day long." I surprised myself by adding the last bit. Had I really said that? Hadn't I _enjoyed _fighting with him? Wait – I enjoyed fighting with him? No, I hated those fights. Wait – I stopped myself again mentally. If I hated those fights, did that mean I didn't like to fight with him? That I'd rather not fight with him and be his friend…?

My thoughts twisted into a single object I imagined to be a sphere, turning round and round in its orbit and perplexing me even more as it revolved. Then I blushed as something jerked me back to apprehension, discovering the hazel eyes before my own green ones and realizing that I had been staring at James.

I averted my gaze quickly. James cleared his throat, perhaps a little too loudly. "So," he started, "About patrolling-"

"Yeah," I interrupted, "We'd better get going."

His eyes widened as though with surprise, crinkling with humour. "Actually, I was thinking of not patrolling tonight. All discipline and no play makes life dull…" He flashed a grin at me. That same grin I had detested for the years past. Now it seemed strangely…

"Yeah, ok." I mumbled in assent. In truth, I didn't really feel much like going patrolling. I needed a break. A break from what, I wasn't sure. I just needed something that seemed so easy yet so hard to obtain, yet I could not put a finger on it. What _was _it? As if reading my thoughts, James laughed. I decided that I liked his laugh; warm, throaty, the kind of 'throw-back-your-head' laugh. It was nothing, I realized, like the cold ones he made when hexing people. It was nice.

"You need to ditch the discipline, milady," he teased, face crinkling with mirth.

I raised an eyebrow. "Do I really?" I remarked quietly, "Discipline helps shape my life. It's what I depend on. With the added responsibilities of Head Girl and the upcoming NEWTS, no discipline is quite literally planning to fail."

James faked a yawn. "Boring," he declared, "You need some excitement in your life, and excitement is what a Marauder can certainly offer…" he trailed off, rising to his feet and looking over the parapet, stealing a brief glance at the grounds.

Silence filled that momentary pause. Something was up.

I bit my lip uneasily as a grin stretched over his handsome features. "James," I started warningly, "Whatever plan you have in mind-"

The rest of my words were lost in the flurry of moments as James reached for my hand, pulled me along as we descended the aged steps leading away from the tower, through a maze of corridors, and finally bursting through – almost literally if he had not stopped in time – the door leading out into the grounds.

* * *

"You seem different this year, you know," James informed me, stretching out on the moonlight-scattered grass. I sat up straight, fiddling with the hem of my robe.

"Oh, really?" I murmured, too lost in thought to care much about his words.

"Yes. As in…you don't curse me or ignore me when I talk to you, and usually you'd be calling me all the difficult, decent words to badmouth me by now. You wouldn't even let me spend a few _minutes _with you in the past."

I had to admit, he'd captured my attention. Nervously I straightened out my robe, trying to give the image of a perfectly calm, collected and composed manner. "Did I really do that in the past?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"You're weird, Lily."

I nodded drowsily, eyeing the smooth mirror lake. It was still, as if it had frozen as ice. "Snow will come in December," I mused randomly, scooping up my hair and holding it in a makeshift ponytail to let the cool breeze brush over my neck.

James nodded. "Snow, snowmen, snowflakes, snowballs, snowball fights, and presents in December," he added.

I uttered a soft giggle. "Homemade treacle, apple tarts, pineapple pie, turkey and Christmas trees in December."

"Tinsel hung on the banisters and home-sewn woolen jackets and tin soldiers in boxes removing the lid and marching all over the place…"

This was fast becoming a game.

"Christmas Pudding with thimbles and coins hidden inside," I sighed.

"Holly wreaths, chimneys and Santa Claus with his big red bag."

"Reindeer and a sleigh…Bells on the sleigh."

We went on and on till we fell fast asleep on the grounds, and awoke to a Saturday when the first sliver of morning light outlined a cloud in shiny gold and a world of a soft red-gold hue was awakened.


	13. Contrast

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. "Really, Lily, you look just fine. Now go along and do that studying you were planning to do with Erika," it cajoled. I sniffed in self-pity, embarrassment burnishing my cheeks at the thought of last night's events. It was inevitable to feel embarrassed, especially after spending the night together with your supposed arch-enemy…No, not in _that _type of way.

"Lily, you there?"

I was jerked out of my silent inertia by a knocking on the door. I jumped, startled, realizing that it was James. I shouted an affirmative reply to him, and proceeded to open the door. He entered, looking just slightly flustered, most likely because of last night's events.

"Erika asked me to tell you that the study meeting is cancelled; she has something up."

Anger rose in me, unwonted, like a torpedo; Erika had been reminding me about the meeting constantly last afternoon, to think she would cancel it on a _whim_! I forced an acceptable appearance. "Thanks," I said tartly, brushing past him and exiting the Heads' common room.

* * *

James sucked in a deep breath, commanding his composure. That girl; she would never really warm up to him, would she? Blowing hot and cold at him, switching tempos almost immediately and alternating between left and right? She was toying with him like a marionette she could manipulate; it didn't make sense. Every time it seemed that he'd taken one step forward, he'd be pushed back one step once more.

The first encounter at the astronomy tower had soothed his frenzied nerves; all the frazzled thoughts that were his regular visitors these days, and gave him hope. No, he corrected, _false _hope. As soon as it led him into a phase of security, till it figuratively had him eating out of its palm, it'd crush him with those guised fingers.

And just a few hours ago, when he'd awoken to see his Lily lying beside him, copper hair glinting with the pale dappled sunlight of the young sun, he could've kissed her there and then. But he didn't.

This wasn't good for him. He simply _had_ to forget Lily Evans.

* * *

**I am so sorry for the short chapter, especially after such a long wait. I've actually written many, many other chapters, and I promise to update by the end of July. Before July 16th, to be exact. )**

**Stasya**

**P.S. Erika Granger isn't Hermione's mum.**


	14. Je ne peux pas oublier

Erika was livid. "I cancelled the study meeting in hope that she'd spend some time with James, only to have her _study on her own_? I swear – she's hopeless!"

Sirius snorted distastefully. "Really," he started smoothly, "You should know that Evans is the little miss independent, not to mention an all time brainy-pants. Naturally she'd study, regardless of whatever happens. I thought you knew her well."

"I highly doubt that they'd make a good couple," Remus injected, "Think about it. She's ignored him for three years straight, what makes you think that they'd ever get together? James only has a simple crush on her. It won't last."

She narrowed her eyes to danger point. "You people are _blind_! They're meant to be, can't you _see_?"

Sirius executed a sardonic smile before sneering, "We don't have time for your feminine romance instincts, if you don't mind. There're things much more deserving of our time than trying to hook up Evans and our best friend. Goodbye."

He delivered a pointed look and stalked away.

In a split second a squall darkened her eyes, and she found vent in scorn.Clenching her fists,sneering,"It surprises me, really, how he manages to be like his _kind _while remaining in Gryffindor."

Peter, who hadn't uttered a sound as of yet, widened his eyes in mortification. "Don't _ever _tell Sirius that, or he'll make your life a living hell."

A derisive snort sounded from somewhere nearby. Peter jumped, and Remus was grim. Tension hung in the air like icicles as Sirius fell into step with Erika, who was stalking away irately, oblivious to the fury of the lad.

"I am _not _like _their _kind!" he insisted, tone vociferous and deadly. He wasn't that out of earshot after all.

In a split second his arm jerked from his side like an arrow maneuvered on a bow, ready and prepared to let loose and strike, but before he could vent his wrath on Erika a shrill scream of "Stop!" rang through the corridor and froze him in step.

Standing before them were Lily and James, both looking equally disbelieving.

* * *

Sirius stared at James and I with non-descript gray eyes, mouth thinning out into a line. I glanced at the three others; Erika, Peter and Remus, each looking guilty in their own way. Erika was biting her nails, eyes boring into the floor. Peter was gaping, open-mouthed, always seeming to have something to say but deciding at the next moment not to say it. Remus had his hands in his pockets, trying to hold a casual position yet still look guilty.

Sirius simply couldn't care less.

"Ten points each from Gryffindor for being out of bed after curfew, and an extra five for physical violence, thanks to Sirius," I forced my voice to take on a tone I could trust at least minimally.

The latter growled and made as if to lunge at me, but Remus held him back. His eyes narrowed threateningly, harbouring some sort of dislike that wasn't insignificant, yet not strong enough to be hate. "Damn you, Lily Evans," he whispered venomously. Jerking himself out of the lupine grip on his shoulder, he stalked away once more, trailing behind him a sort of Gryffindor version of the Slytherin haughtiness.

Erika started, tears blinking like stars, "I-Lily-I'm… I'm so sorry." Then she fled with a patter of slippers, feet slapping the stone floor as she vamoosed.

"Sorry, James." Remus apologized, giving a weak smile. Peter sniffed, nodding vehemently. And they too made their escapade as did the two before them, leaving James and I behind, alone.

* * *

He was the first to break the silence. "Sorry. For…for everything."

Here was James Potter, apologizing. He seemed sincere. "It's ok."

Silence stretched between us. Just for a while; a short while. He spoke again. "They seemed really intent on getting us together." There was a kind of wistfulness in his voice. He was wistful. Wistful for what? I glanced at him shortly; his hair was untidier than usual, his clothes creased and wrinkled, and his hazel orbs of eyes, weary. His slightly hunched, lanky figure was a shadow of his past self. Truth to be told, I missed the jokes. I missed the humor. I missed the laughter. Hogwarts had only seen a couple of pranks since the first one at the Welcome Feast. That was bad. Everyone seemed to depend on the Marauders for that bit of stress relief.

Suddenly he made a derisive noise at the back of his throat. "Why is it all about you, Evans? Everything, _everything _in my life seems to revolve around you."

His sudden outburst made me stare at him in mild trepidation.

"What's it about you that…that _lures_? You think I haven't tried giving up on you? I almost did, late last year. During summer I thought I'd gotten over you. At the start of school I resumed my abandoned mission again. And last week, just last week, I tried to forget you. I couldn't. I can't, Lily," He paused to regard me ruefully, "You're…addictive."

He continued. "In class I scribble your initials on my notebook. At night, you keep haunting me, even in my dreams. In the morning, I wake up, and if I can't remember my dreams, there you are, haunting me once more. Whenever we patrol together, it…it just seems so right, yet so wrong. I don't know what's going on, Lily."

Emotions raced through my veins, through my head, through…through me. I didn't know what I was feeling. I didn't understand. So I just stared at the floor mutely, crossing my arms in a sort of defeated manner. I could feel his eyes boring into me. His plain, hazel eyes.

"I've tried being a different person. Trying to act like the sensible, mature guys you always go out with. I've managed to succeed, but only outwardly. It's not just the sense of not being _me_, it's the sense of…always failing to win your heart that's killing me inside. Sometimes, _me _just slips out, like a reflex uncalled for. Like that time at the astronomy tower. Both times. Lily…" He looked me firmly in the eye, "Help me."

* * *

**Hey, everyone. Um...could any of you help me out? Can you explain the whole calender system of London, Britain, whatever? Like...when are the summer holidays? Is it winter in December? When do the four seasons occur, respectively? Can anyone give me a detailed explanation? Thanks...I'm not very certain of all these because I'm from Singapore, where it's summer all year round...If only that meant that it's the holidays all year round. Lol. Oh, oh, could anyone tell me which months are ideal to play field hockey? Thanks...**

**I updated. ;)**

**Cheerios,  
Stasya**

**P.S. The title of this chapter, translated into English, means "I cannot forget". I just thought I'd try a French title, since French is my third language...**


	15. Punch

Adelaide was an epitome of nonchalance as she strolled out of the wall. "She wants to help, actually, though she doesn't know it yet, and she doesn't know how to help," she offered, her smile placating, her tone harbouring a note of envy, "Yet she doesn't know what's right in front of her nose."

I stared at Adelaide in disbelief, in horror, in doubtfulness. She really was eccentric. One ireful moment, she was gone like the wind, and the next moment breezing back. Now she seemed her old, confident self. In a split second she had disappeared.

James whirled around, momentarily burning with fervor. I could almost see the fire in his eyes, burning and blazing and twisting into an empowering strand of confusion. "Where'd she go?" he questioned the empty air, "What did she mean?"

"I meant," came a sudden drawl from nowhere, "That Lily is blind to nothing but this simple yet complex…web."

My eyes widened, nonplussed. "Adelaide…"

"I'll be there tomorrow evening, Lily," now her voice was pleading, sorrowful, and angry all at once. "Please come."

"Adelaide!" an involuntary shout escaped my now parched lips, the sound reverberating all around me. But she had vanished once more, gone with the lavender breeze that blew, leaving James and I alone, again.

* * *

The next morning, Erika avoided me like the plague. So did James, to my utmost frustration. "_Talk to me_!" I wanted to scream, "_Talk to me and tell me what the hell is going on_!" But of course, no one heard me. Sirius glared, Peter stared, and Remus was indifferent. James was simply…expressionless.

Lessons dragged on to evening, uneventful.

And it was time to visit Adelaide.

Rain pattered down on the window sill, heard, but hidden by lace curtains. Today the Room of Requirement was a fancy living room, complete with refreshments in minute, intricately carved glasses and all. I downed a glass of punch, which was really just a sip's worth, enlarged the glass and had another drink.

"Voldemort, as you call him, _was _my friend, but I knew him as Tom Riddle then," she insisted vehemently, "And whatever evil he may have done out there, I don't know, it certainly doesn't tarnish my impression of him…"

I drank, staring ahead blankly. "He killed my grandfather."

"And I'm sorry for that," she answered determinedly, not sounding at all sorry, "But you must understand that he was once a nice person…And the person I hold in my thoughts is the Tom from the past, not the evil wizard out there."

"Let's stop talking about Voldemort, ok?"

"Call him Tom. Or Riddle. Just not Voldemort."

"Whatever floats your boat."

"I talked to James, just yesterday, when you'd retired to your room," she added, thoughtfully.

I blinked, surprised to find myself _not _surprised at her words. "What did you tell him?" I asked, forcing a neutral tone. I pictured myself, an image of calm and composure, and tried to apply it to reality… I drank more punch.

"Well," she shrugged, "We'll just have to see for ourselves, won't we? I've quite honestly forgotten what I told him."

It was almost telepathy; I understood her immediately. Quietly, I got up to my feet and tried to maintain some kind of touch with her as she spun the minute golden hourglass around, and around, and the world was a blur of colours till we landed, quite perfectly due to years of practice, in last night's Room of Requirement.

* * *

Adelaide guided me through the corridors; I was almost falling over with adrenaline. We reached the Heads' room just in time to see the 'me' of last night disappearing into my room, and James slumping down onto the couch to form a dent that hadn't been there before.

We hid behind the bookshelf.

Last night's Adelaide drifted out of the wall. She inclined her head slightly, mouth curving into a small, secret smile. Quietly she drifted over to James and flashed a wry smile. Sadly, the calm greeting was not mutual.

"Crikey! What're _you _doing here?" James snapped copiously and, judging from his expression, was jolted out of that half-conscious state he had been in previously.

Adelaide seemed rather offended. "Don't swear," she insisted, "It gets on my nerves."

James raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Like I care," he shrugged offhandedly. "What're you doing here, anyway? Lily's asleep already, so you can return to wherever you came from."

"Psh. As if Lily's the only one I talk to. I'm here to talk to you, actually. It does concern Lily."

"Lily's business isn't my business," he retorted.

"But you care for her," Adelaide stated smugly.

"I…" James gaped goldfish-style, tongue-tied.

"...don't." he finished, rather uncertainly, and certainly his claim wasn't worthy to be relied upon. He blinked.

"I'm supposed to believe that?" she mocked, but not unkindly.

James clenched his jaw. "So what if I do? The feeling will never be mutual. She doesn't give a damn for me."

"That time in the astronomy tower, she didn't resist when you put your arm around her. You two even spent the night together, once," Adelaide reminded him. She rolled her eyes.

"She was playing with me," James said vehemently, "Making me feel ecstatic, pulling me up onto the ninth cloud, and then disappearing and leaving me hung up there, with no way to get down…She's taking advantage of me liking her."

"I can recognize the symptoms of infatuation quite well, and Lily seems to have caught the disease…" Adelaide smirked, leaving him to wonder, as she drifted away deliberately. He stared after her until she disappeared, eyes blazing with unasked questions, and then he abruptly stood up and entered his room.

* * *

Time spun past and we were safely back in the Room of Requirement, in our own time.

"I cannot believe you actually hinted to James that I was…infatuated with him." I poured more punch into the glass, swirling the liquid in what was supposed to be an elegant fashion, rather violently. Somehow, the carpet beneath my feet seemed a tad wet after that.

"You are," she said.

"I am _not_." The taste of punch weighed heavily in my throat. The punch bottle tilted itself, with the aid of my wand, to form an inclined angle with the glass.

"You two haven't been fighting in ages."

I raised the glass to my lips silently, only to meet nothing an empty glass. I glanced at the bottle. It was empty. No more punch. "Fighting will get in the way of our Head Duties. We…I don't want personal issues to interfere with my responsibilities." I wondered, however, if that was what I really meant to say.

"You never seemed to care about that before. That time in fifth year, you called him names while you should have only confined your scolding him to a simple reprimand, and not call him a toe-rag and stuff…" Adelaide teased.

"That was because he asked me out," I said stubbornly.

"But you said you didn't want personal issues to interfere with your duties, did you?" said she, smug. Something in her tone told me that she knew she'd won. She always managed to have the last word.

"Oh, shut up," I grumbled lightly.

Adelaide laughed. Despite all the confusion I was feeling, somewhere inside me, I was…glad. Adelaide was back – the real, teasing Adelaide.


	16. Warmth

Half-Blood Prince is out, and out of respect for those who haven't yet read the book, I shan't disclose any of the major events in the book... Though I am a little pissed that Lily's flair is Potions, and not Charms. Oh, well. Thus people, I'd like you to know that this story (if you haven't noticed already) is officially AU, and written with almost complete disregard for the Sixth book, no matter how glad I am that it's out. J.K. Rowling is too bland where couplings are concerned, because Ginny/Harry is not nice and Ron/Hermione is way too predictable. Where romance was concerned, the Sixth book was a little too cliché but the plot, I must admit, is excellent. Ingenious. Thus, the sixteenth chapter, on the 16th of July... drumroll

It's nothing special,  
Stasya

* * *

"Psst! Lily!"

I looked over my shoulder, hoping to identify whoever had whispered my name. James grinned at me, casually tossing a scrunched up piece of parchment over. I caught it deftly in my fingers, scowling at him, mouthing that it was History class and it wasn't right to be passing notes. But the handsome rascal had already turned away to face his friends. I should have known.

I stuffed the crumpled ball into my pencil case, determined not to even spare it a single glance till class ended. Such was the call of obedience. I would _not _read the message till dinner time, in fact. Such was the tactic of defying James Potter.

"Prongs, weren't you going to, like, forget Red? Writing her notes in Binns' class isn't the ideal way to do so," Sirius drawled.

James shrugged, leaning farther back in his seat. "If she can't be my girlfriend…Then at least she can be my friend." A small grin spread across his face, as he relished and toyed with the idea of him and Lily Evans, friends. 'Yes,' he thought, 'Yes, that'd be the life.'

* * *

_Hey Evans,_

_Meet me at Hogsmeade this Saturday? I know our…**history **hasn't been so good, but I swear this **isn't **a date. If all goes well, hope you'll meet me in the Three Broomsticks, the table next to the goblin painting on the wall. I've already booked it. I'll be waiting._

_James _

It was so…polite. So unlike him. Curiously I found myself considering his offer; something I'd never or at least never remembered myself doing before. He said that it wasn't a date; it seemed that he'd taken care to emphasize the "isn't", yet he could always go back on his promise. Wasn't he the type to snatch up a girl's heart, play with it for a bit, break it and then toss the broken thing into the garbage?

_No._

Right. Should I go, or should I not?

"Lily, dear, the library closes in ten minutes time."

I looked up to face the smiling countenance of Madam Stevenson, and smiled back. "Yes, of course, Madam S."

Everyone called her Madam S. It was a lot less tedious than saying out the whole Stevenson family name, no matter the nice ring it had to it. (A few weeks later it'd mutate to Madamess, courtesy of Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs).

Madamess' reminder went unheeded, forgotten. I lounged comfortably on the couch, totally absorbed in a book, when a voice shattered my reverie.

"You're going to be locked in if you continue staying here, you know." Erika smiled wryly, eyes darting about.

_What the…Erika!_

Before I could speak, Erika cut me off. "Look, Lily," she stammered, gathering her bushy curls in a makeshift ponytail, "I'm _really _sorry about what happened that night, all I wanted was to get you and James together, and…and…forgive me?" Her face was flushed, framed by strands of honey tumbling to her neck. Wait…her neck?

"You've cut your hair," I observed, smiling a little. The answer had two sides to it.

"Right," she said, a grin replacing her pleading expression in a split second, "Friends again?"

I smirked, "We're going to be locked in if we continue staying here, you know."

"Yeah, yeah…We'd better go."

Laughing, chatting, we made our way to the Gryffindor common room before parting our ways as I left for the Heads' dormitory. And as I walked, I felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Perhaps that was what I'd been sub-consciously worrying about these few days.

* * *

Today dragged on till Saturday, uneventful. I had accepted James' offer earlier, after advice from Adelaide and much consideration. It wasn't a date, James and I had progressed to civil terms; what was there to possibly fear? Saturday morning, however, was spent reassuring my doubts once more. I was nervous, and I had no idea why.

"Lily!"

Someone pounced on me from behind as I surveyed my wardrobe for the umpteenth time. I gasped for breath, forcing ten fingers off my shoulders before turning to see Erika. Sighing, I asked, "How did you get in?"

"Good morning to you too, Lily," she rolled her eyes, "I pounded on the portrait till James let me in. I think I gave that fat ol' portrait guy and his owl quite a bit of a fright. The bird's feathers were totally ruffled."

My eyes widened in shock. "_Erika_," I admonished, "That was _Godric Gryffindor!_"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Right, pfft. He can go stuff his ears with wax for all I care. Girl, you just _have _to dress right for this date with James! You don't really plan to wear your school uniform there, do you? Only a handful of Ravenclaws do that! You need to dress like everyone else does! Like I do! C'mon now, I saw a cute green T-shirt you were wearing the other day…"

"W-what? How do you know? Wait, no, it isn't even a date! We're just meeting as _friends_." I crossed my arms over my chest defiantly, looking her straight in the eye, yet absolutely mortified at the same time. How did she know!

"James told me," she said nonchalantly, unaware of my chagrin, "Hey, this skirt looks real nice…"

"_James _told you? But…but he himself told me it wasn't a date!" My brows gathered as I realized that he'd…he'd _duped _me into thinking that...

"Lily," Erika commanded, "Get your arse off the bed and change into this outfit! Trust the fashion guru of Gryffindor; you'll _never _go wrong when Granger's your fashion manager…"

Numb with sudden epiphany, I complied like a docile child, not caring about _anything_. James could tell Erika and whoever whatever he liked. But he'd _pay _for betraying my trust.

* * *

James entered The Three Broomsticks silently, half turning to his friends behind him as they gave him encouraging glances. Peter did the "victory" hand sign, Remus grinned, and Sirius gave a grudging smile. He hadn't quite gotten that late night incident, though the fault wasn't Lily's at all. He was just stubborn.

Breathing deeply, he let the glass door clang shut behind him under the watchful gaze of the other Marauders, and spotting a coppery head at the corner of the shop, made his way there hesitantly. Perhaps, if he played his cards right, he'd be friends with Lily before the end of the day.

After all, if they couldn't be a couple, why not be friends? _Though it won't be the same..._

* * *

I felt a stab of anger as James took his seat in front of me. The little _Casanova_, that _backstabber_, actually dared to lie to me! On the way here, already there was a new whirlwind of gossip, and I was its victim. Everywhere I turned, people were whispering about how I'd agreed to date James _at last_. Idiot, idiot, idiot, bastard…

"Hey, Lily."

"Hi," I nodded curtly, eyes narrowed ever so slightly and stubbornly looking away from him.

"Lily, is everything ok?"

"What _is_ ok?" I retorted, turning to spare him an indignant glare, and then turning away again. Honestly, why had I bothered to turn up? "You tricked me, didn't you," I hissed in an undertone, "Making me think this was just an ordinary meeting between ordinary acquaintances, while telling others that you'd managed to get me to agree to date you, and then tomorrow, you'd brag that you'd dated and dumped me like one of your other play things? Potter, you are _sick_!"

Something creased his forehead, something all went into a sort of knot at his forehead. "Lily, this _isn't _a date, and I didn't-"

"Shut _up_."

"C'mon, Lily-" _he's getting angry now_, I thought, _I've tested his patience, have provoked his fury, but I don't care._ Resisting an urge to deliver a stinging slap to his cheek, pride got the better of me. I stormed out of the shop in ire.

* * *

James stared at Lily's retreating figure that was hastily throwing a dark blue cloak over its shoulders, and he wondered at what had gone wrong. He hadn't _done _anything wrong, as far as he was concerned. All he'd done was greet and ask after her. Surely these weren't deserving of disapproval? What had she said, still? Something about tricking her into thinking that this wasn't a date, and…and dumping her like one of his play things?

Firstly, he hadn't tricked her into believing anything. Secondly, he had _girlfriends, _not play things. He wasn't like Slytherin's infamous Michael Zabini, who was rumored to bed girls on a weekly basis, and –

Wait, what was he doing, standing there and gaping like a simpleton? _He had a girl to chase after._ Clasping on his own scarlet cloak, he strode out of the Three Broomsticks purposefully, before breaking into a sprint after the blue-clad, lone figure that walked down the empty street.

* * *

A chill autumn wind blew through the street, carrying the cold hint of winter, sharp as the tip of a dagger made of ice. Rust brown and scarlet leaves danced across the street, dancing up a whirlwind of leaves. I pulled my cloak tighter around me; the fabric was too thin. Tears pricked at my eyes but I hastily dabbed them away. If I were to cry, I'd cry somewhere private.

"_Lily dear, you really should take the emerald cloak; it's thicker, and it brings out the color of your eyes," my mother persuaded, trying to ease the midnight blue cloak out of my hands and replace it with the green one. I shook my head insistently._

"_But mum – I prefer the dark blue one! Just let me take it, ok?"_

"_Lily, Lily…that's so, so…so gothic and unfeminine," she sighed condescendingly, "Why don't you take both instead? It'll be cold in November. By the way, you're coming back home for Christmas, aren't you?" _

"Yes, mummy," I whispered to myself over the howling, torrential wind, "I'll be back for Christmas, where everything is safe, and no one will ever try to deceive me, no one will hurt me at home…"

I narrowed my eyes. "There, Potter won't be able to hurt me," I assured myself, beginning to feel a lot better. Suddenly I craved to return home. I was so, so upset. I felt so cold. So, so cold… Home had a fireplace; warmth – my mother's hug, warmth. Petunia's amiable conversations; warmth. Daddy's familiar Old Spice cologne; warmth.

There, the ice encasing my heart would melt. Warmth…


	17. The NotQuite Solution

Warmth… Where was I now? There was a fireplace, I could see. Suddenly I felt a pair of warm arms enveloping me – "You're awake," said James quietly. And everything came rushing back to me - the quarrel in the Three Broomsticks, me storming out, me walking along the empty street to bear the wrath of the chilly weather, me…in my bed?

"How come I'm here?" I eyed him quizzically.

He looked mildly amused. "Did you think I'd let you remain in the street or sleep on the couch?" he teased.

I refused to let my embarrassment show, and when I did not reply, he teased, "Or did you think you'd be in my room?"

"Potter, shut up," I snapped.

"Right," he said darkly, temperament switching instantly, "So it's 'Potter' now, is it?"

The air between us two was uneasy; a raindrop hanging off the edge of the roof waiting to fall and splatter across the pavement. I was painfully aware of the whole fiasco; the aftermath of a black out was not amnesia. And yet I persisted in telling myself that nothing had happened, everything was fine; I had not been tricked into a date, nothing was wrong… It was like a mantra; if I repeated it over and over again it would become true.

But I could not erase the fact that his eyes were boring into mine, asking for answers, asking for explanations, asking for…truth. I averted his gaze, hoping to dodge the subject, hoping that he would just _forget _everything, but still he pressed on with his dark eyes. _James, James…why are you always so insistent?_

Finally I caved in. "You lied to me," I said coolly, looking him straight in the eye, and yet my hands were clenched, white and shaking.

He looked at me with an identical coolness. "I did not. Care to explain?"

"You've changed, Potter," I frowned at him, tucking stray strands of hair behind me ear, uncomfortably noticing that my ears were now unusually cold.

"Since fifth year, you mean?" he amended, "It's not that. It's just that you've never seen me angry before."

Angry. Was that what he was? There was a lot I had to learn about him, then. He didn't seem to show his anger. There was only a deceivingly calm tone to his voice, something which was far more worthy to be fearful of than ire. Anger betrayed emotion; calmness didn't - and to be unemotional…was tantamount to being inhumane. That was the scary part. He was right. I had never seen him angry before.

"Do I have to repeat myself? I said – you lied to me. That's it. You tricked me into a date. That's low, Potter, even for you." I shifted a bit under the covers, realizing that I was still in a lying position, and decided that sitting cross legged would put me in a more intimidating position.

"Tricked?" he scoffed, disdainful, "I don't have to _trick _you into a date. If I wanted to do so, I'd have done so years ago. I won't stoop to that level. If I'm going on a date with anyone, she'll be willing. Now, pray tell, what gave you the idea that the _ordinary _meeting was actually a date in disguise?"

"Ordinary meeting?" my voice rose an octave higher, it seemed, and so did my eyebrows. _Don't let him lie to you, Lily. Keep your guard up. **He's telling the truth! Why would he lie to you? He's fancied you for years, lass. Besides, even if he did lie to you, he did it because he liked you. You should be flattered. **Flattered? Offended, you mean! What would you know about affairs of the heart? Leave him alone, girl. Young adults like you would be better off _studying.

And so, I told him what Erika had told me. I punctuated the words "tricked" and "date" with particularly vicious stabs of scorn. When I was done, he quirked an eyebrow, staring at me with an unchanged expression. "That's it, then," he said tonelessly, though something flickered in his eyes to betray whatever emotions he was hiding beneath the icy exterior.

"That's it?" he repeated, this time in a more strangled, expressive voice. "Has it never occurred to you that Erika could be wrong? She _misinterpreted _my words. I never told her we were going on a date. I merely told her of our arrangements for the day as she had…hinted setting us up together. She must have taken the meeting as…as a date."

_He's lying! Tell him to go away, tell him to leave, tell him to…**Foolish, aren't you? It was all a misunderstanding. All the fuss, what for? You do like him, don't you? Don't you?**_

…_**don't you?**_

My concentration grew lax in one stride. "What…? Erika…she'd never lie to me, she wouldn't-" I stopped myself in the middle of a ramble, all the epiphany gathering at my forehead. "You're lying; tell me you're lying…" I felt my face growing hot. At the sight of his face, so…clear, suddenly, so incredulous, I knew he was telling the truth.

And I didn't know what to say.

"Lily, stop fretting, don't worry about it, it was all a misunderstanding," he was trying in vain to comfort me now. Funny, how he could switch temperaments so quickly. Playful to cool; cool to angry; angry to comforting. The lamplight by my bed caught in the lenses of his black rimmed spectacles, and suddenly I found myself reflected, illumined there, like I was looking in a mirror. Like a bowl of crystalline clear water, acidic to the touch, reflecting… Gosh, the glass was so, so close, only inches away…

And I found our faces merely inches apart, how we had managed to end up in this position, I didn't know, and I didn't think I wanted to know… Just a little closer, I could make out his cologne now, breathe in, breathe out, oh…his eyes. So dark, so captivating, so…

_This is a mistake, Lily._

_**He's going to kiss you…**_

Don't I want him to kiss me?

The distance between us diminished in a stroke of sizzling passion.

* * *

After that day, I deliberately arranged all the patrol duties such that I wouldn't have to patrol with him. I went to class early, always with a partner, so I wouldn't end up sitting with him by chance. I always returned to the dormitory earlier than him after dinner, and I did my homework in my room, never in the common room. I longed for the winter holidays, where I'd get to stay home for the whole of December. I fled from everything, turning myself invisible. I just blended in with the crowd. I no longer bothered to stand out by going everywhere alone.

I ran away.

I was a coward.

Two more days till I'd get to go home. _Home_.

* * *

_**Running away from love…**_

* * *

****

It was stupid that he could have hit himself. How could he possibly have taken a liberty like that? _Kissing _her, oh god. How could he possibly think that she'd develop feelings for him after a long period of hatred? How could he possibly hope for her to…He only wanted to befriend her. That was all. And yet, like the idiotic git he was, he'd managed to mess everything up by betraying his true emotions.

He still remembered the stunned expression etched into her features, the – was it disgusted? – look pass over her face like a wave that crashed onto the shores, claiming the shells and leaving debris behind, as he jerked away from her seconds after their lips had touched. He'd blurted out a hasty apology, staring at her in mollification, but she had only looked away.

Now he looked out of the window. Hogwarts with snow was a different world. Snow mazed and turned in the air, white against the grey, overcast sky, and stray meshes of cloud darted over the moon. James flung open the window, allowing snow to blow in and tangle with his hair, the wintry scent enveloping his senses.

* * *

**Hey people. I've sort of re-read the whole story, and I've realized that perhaps I'm moving this story a bit too fast? Or maybe a bit too slow...haha. I decided to put the first kiss up after starving yall for 16 chapters straight. It isn't much, but I didn't mean for it to be much anyway, so yeah. I apologise for the long wait; I meant to put it up sooner, but like I said, I re-read the chapters that I hadn't yet posted up here and decided that the whole thing was a bit absurd...so I rewrote 15 pages worth of the story. More chapters to come, don't fret...probably soon, though I dunno.**

**Please, _please _tell me if you find this story -the plot, in general- too cliché. That's my greatest fear, having a clichéd fic. And that's why I want you to point it out to me, so I can make changes to the clichéd parts. Okay people, this story isn't my best work of art, but it _is _my baby, and I'm gonna finish it. :) **

**Hugs and kisses,  
Stasya**


	18. fly away

Early morning, on the day the train was to leave in the afternoon, found James high up in the Quidditch stands. It had stopped snowing overnight, and now snow coated the grounds. All was sparkling white with dunes and drifts of snow. Before them rose an image of crystalline beauty: the lake – fashioned from ice as if from opal, mountains with their summits sprinkled with crisp white powder like vanilla atop a mound of chocolate ice cream; frozen cloud and lacy frost. Overhead the sky was a silvery gray. In the midst of crystalline beauty, James felt like a shadow, a minor detail in an elaborate painting.

He'd tried to get close to her again. But he found it impossible. She was always surrounded with Erika's friends. And even when she wasn't around them, it was hard to get a chance alone with her. He suspected that she'd even changed the patrol schedule, such that she wouldn't have to patrol with him.

Nevertheless, he never got a chance to talk with her.

He watched, exhausted, mesmerized, as the first rays of dawn crept across the sky in hazy tendrils. A broom lay beside him, mahogany, almost as tall as him. He'd been flying since early that morning. His eyes were bloodshot with exhaustion, his hair was twice as rumpled, and a snitch struggled ferociously in his clenched fist.

He was about to sleep when two familiar voices pierced the silence. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees, propping up his chin up on his fist. It started out with two dark silhouettes, emerging from the quidditch shed, and slowly transformed into a portrait of not shadow but jumper clad schoolgirls. Lily and Erika, to be exact. In the dim light, they looked almost identical – same stature, same gait, and their hair – copper and brown – looked quite alike. As the distance between girls and boy diminished, James noticed that they were carrying brooms. His curiosity was piqued. He'd never seen either of them fly before.

He leaned back in his seat lazily, hoping that they, somehow, wouldn't notice him. He was just a small figure against the stands. Yes, maybe they'd overlook him. Silently he observed the two girls. Lily, he noted, was a rather good flier. She just needed more confidence.

Randomly, he looked down at the snitch in his palm. It was still struggling. "You don't give up, do you?" he mumbled, "You never give up. Whenever you're captured, you struggle and you never stop. Infatuation has captured me, you know, and I've stopped struggling. If I were like you, unfeeling, dispassionate, I could struggle all I like without stopping and perhaps one day, I'd win… but I do _feel_, you know. It's easy for you. All you do is struggle, struggle, struggle – it's _programmed _into you. All you have to do is fight on."

James let go of the snitch, watching it zoom around the pitch. And yet, it was still a prisoner, in a way. The pitch was bewitched to not let the snitch out of the grounds. Poor thing, never able to be truly free. For years and years it'd just serve as a play thing for others, caught, imprisoned, freed, caught, imprisoned, freed… it was a cycle. And it'd never be truly free.

But of course, that didn't matter. It wasn't as if the snitch had emotions.

Though he did.

And then came the paralyzed scream, a flash of glinting copper – _falling_. A broom hung limply in the air, and Erika halted in mid-air, frozen in trepidation. Lily, where was Lily? Lily was _falling_.

James' jaw was hanging slack, shock coursing through every vein in him. _Falling_…she was And in a split second everything clicked; his mind registered the fact, and he was instantly on his broom and swooping down after the falling figure.

He was going the fastest he ever had in his whole life. His ungloved hands gripped the broom tightly; wind whistling past him with its terrible humor. Lily didn't scream. She was just very, _very _shocked…and afraid. He couldn't possibly let her hit the ground.

And then, in a sharp, dramatic turn, suddenly…suddenly she slowed down, as if…as if struck by the impedimenta curse. Startled at the sudden decrease in speed, he almost crashed into her. The way she fell, the way her arms flailed…everything, everything went in slow motion, as if she were submerged in thick liquid…

And she landed softly, safely, on the snow clad grass.

The minute he himself landed, he fell to his knees and helped her up, shaken by her near-death experience. Erika arrived soon after, hugging Lily tightly, crying, and apologizing for not watching her… Lily was taking in rapid breaths, breathing in and out irregularly, whimpering and clutching on to Erika as though her life depended on her.

As if heralded by instinct, James shuffled his feet to look behind him. Far away, there stood a tall, silver bearded figure cloaked in a light blue dressing robe. His wand was still held out, and as the blue clad figure slowly slipped it back into a pocket, a pair of half-moon, gold-rimmed spectacles glinted in the light of the young sun.

The figure nodded towards him, and then, with a swish of his robes, swept back into the castle.

* * *

Golden shafts of morning light slanted tentatively through the curtains. The blaring of my alarm clock echoed out into the eerily silent dormitory. Normally I'd hear James in the shower by now; he always was the earlier riser. But everything was silent. No banging on my door, like the days when James was particularly cheeky and wanted to wake me up, no sound of water splashing from the tap. No hissing sound as water filled the bathtub. I stumbled into the bathroom. The mirror was clear; usually it'd be all misted up, as James always used hot water when he took his bath.

Somehow, James Potter had made his way into my life, silently and inconspicuously. He had become part of it; a habitual thing, like a painting on the wall in your house that you pass every time you ascend the stairs but never really take notice of. And suddenly something flashed in me, a subtle feeling I'd barely have noticed had it not been for the lack of commotion – I missed him. It wasn't a very strong feeling, but it was there, the weak flicker of candlelight that refused to extinguish.

How dreamy it seemed. I missed him, when he was probably somewhere in the castle, maybe having breakfast or something. It was stupid, really. _Yes, stupid, you must come out of this phase. _Later on, Erika came on her now routine morning call, all decked out in a woolen jumper, mittens and ear muffs. In a moment my dressing was identical to hers, and somehow, we were off to the Quidditch pitch.

And then came the fall.

* * *

I didn't know what had possessed me to fly just now. Perhaps it was the brilliant weather and the cool air. Perhaps Erika was excellent at persuading people. But the fall…that _terrifying _fall as a scream tore from my lips… I never wanted to fly again. I wasn't very sure how I'd fallen… I'd seen a tiny glimmer of gold flash past me all of a sudden, and I was so startled that I'd lost my balance…and _fell._

And I didn't know where James had come from, either. One minute I was falling, and the next moment he'd appeared above me, flying towards me. Neither did I know how I'd slowed down, seconds away from hitting rock bottom. It wasn't James; he couldn't possibly use a wand while flying. Erika and I hadn't brought our wands.

"How could you possibly fall?" a tearful Erika asked me, "You were perfectly fine up there, and then you just _fell_."

I told her, and James sucked in a deep breath.

_**The same boy who kissed you.**_

Hesitantly: "Lily…I'm sorry, I didn't realize- it was I who let out that snitch. I didn't think it would…I didn't think something like this would happen…"

He did look sincere.

**_He kissed you, bloody. _**

What was that about a snitch?

Oh – the glimmer of gold that startled and made me fall.

I looked away. "Forget it," I said shakily, "It's all over anyway. You didn't mean to make me fall."

_**You liked it, didn't you?**_

I couldn't discern his expression. It was hurt, upset, relieved and apologetic all at once. Was there even a name for such a mixture? "Lily," there he went again, "If you're angry, you don't have to hide it… Damn, Lily, you've no idea how guilty I feel now!"

"I _told _you, forget it. I'm not angry at you. It wasn't anyone's fault."

_**Lily, you're deceiving yourself. Don't push him away. You need him. You both need each other.**_

Where was Erika? Damn her. She'd left us two alone in my room.

James heaved a rankled sigh. "Fine then, should I leave?"

I nodded mutely, before continuing, "Yeah, I've got to do some last minute packing before the train leaves in the afternoon. Wait, what time does it leave again?"

"Three o'clock." He looked disturbed, seemingly wanting to say something but deciding otherwise.

_**Ask him to stay!**_

"Thanks. You should go now."

He left, shutting the door behind him quietly. Why was there a sense of déjà vu?

_**You foolish, foolish girl. Now you've lost your chance. **_

* * *

****

"And…and you know what the nurse said? She said-" Sirius collapsed in hysterical laughter, clutching his sides and falling back into the couch. Remus' eyes crinkled with humor as he joined the laughter –for he already knew the much used joke-, while Peter was engrossed in reading the Daily Prophet. They were trying to cheer James up. Perhaps they were a little successful…he found the joke rather amusing, once Sirius had recited the whole thing over again.

"You seriously need to get into the real pranks, Prongs…" Sirius clapped him on the back, "All you've been doing is the plotting of the stuff…You haven't done any hands on things yet."

"But…the Head Boy position-" James protested, ruffling his hair absent-mindedly.

"Sucks to the Head Boy position," Sirius cried, chagrined, "_Please_, I'm sick of serving detention alone."

"Ah. Detention. I'd almost forgotten about that."

"Prongs, _forget _about detention? All hell must have frozen over."

"Tell me, has Filch gotten creative yet?"

"No. It's the same every detention, either cleaning up something or sorting out stuff. But, seriously."

"Seriously what?"

"We can't help you out with your love life."

James blinked, glancing at Remus and Peter. "Why not?"

"Because," Remus interjected, "You're the only one who knows what you want. First you said you only wanted to befriend her, and then later… Well, you tied the knot – you untie it."

"But," Sirius continued importantly, "You have to get another detention when we return from the holidays. It's custom."

"We've got this _brilliant _prank all planned out," Peter gushed excitedly, eyes twinkling with humor as he good-naturedly shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth. Remus nodded, sipping pumpkin juice and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Sirius leaned back in his chair.

"A prank so brilliant and blatant that it's _sure_ to land us in detention!"

"You see…"

"We're going to prank the ICA group when they come in February to recruit members."

"All their demonstrational Charms are going to backfire on them."

"They'll talk in Chinese."

"And there'll be some other…special effects."

"But it's only a plan. Nothing has been _done_ yet."

"And we refuse to commence with the preparations unless you agree to help us…"

* * *

Despite all the talk about pranking the ICA, James couldn't keep his mind off how cold Lily had been. Her replies to his concerned inquisitions were curt and precise, sharp and cold, and remarkably calm after a thirty foot near-death fall. He couldn't identify with her. She hadn't mentioned anything about their kiss; perhaps she found it insignificant. He decided against it. Lily had never been one to play around with her feelings. But what scared him was that he _liked _the kiss. It wasn't love, but that single crush that stemmed from the age of fifteen had bloomed into infatuation…and strong infatuation at that. He liked the kiss and he wanted more.

* * *

I had been staring at the door for the past half an hour, still clad in a thick woolen winter jumper, and yet freezing to death. With something between a sigh and a grunt, I got up, shaking the numbness out of my limbs and shutting –perhaps 'slamming' would be a better word- the window. Peeling off my gloves, I drew the curtains and changed slowly into some lighter clothing, not forgetting a jumper.

I felt like a fool.

Falling off a broom just because a tiny little _snitch _startled me, having to play the infamous role of distressed damsel, tucked into a bed and all. And then, the kiss… It was like Sleeping Beauty come true, not necessarily in a good way. Sighing and pulling on a plain black shirt, the sudden cool sensation against my chest alerted me to a thin silver chain placed around my neck, with a slim, shapeless pendant lying demurely against my chest, cool to the touch. I fingered it fondly.

It wasn't a gift from anyone. It was no one's gift, as far as I was concerned. I wasn't sure if it were meant for me in the first place. I'd found it in Diagon Alley in Year One, sprawled in a dirt patch, attracted by the gleam in the waste, and fished it out of the mud gingerly. It shone like the full moon at night. I'd worn it everyday since then. A cuckoo clock sounded the time – noon. I abruptly shoved the pendant down my shirt, all sentimentality forgotten, and made my way down for lunch after checking to make sure all my luggage was in place.

* * *

The train pulled in leisurely at precisely three o'clock, chugging and puffing clouds of white air as if exhaling. Snow clung to the top, a sparkling white blanket soft and wet to the touch. Crowds milled around the train, each fighting to get in first for the sake of getting good seats, resulting in the abundant use of swear words. I took my time. After all, I'd always have the Heads' department if unable to find a seat elsewhere.

And then my thoughts took a dramatic turn.

Cowardice infiltrated my mind. A few days ago I'd thought of home as my refuge. The fire in the cold. The bullet proof wall. To escape from what, hurt? To escape from James? Run, run, run, run, run. Go on running forever. Don't stop. Run away. Tire yourself out until you finally stop and let your imaginary fears consume you. Go on running, go on then, be afraid, be scared, be a **coward**.

Go on. Why don't you?

_RUN._

I shook my head in an attempt to clear my mind. "I'll be back, mummy," I told myself quietly, "Home can heal me. You can heal me. Just wait, I'll come."

* * *

Adelaide sulked in a corner, alone. Lily and James had left for the Christmas holidays and now she had no one to talk to. Brushing back her wavy hair both irritably and miserably, she groaned and flinched at the thought of one month of loneliness. Alone. Solitary. By oneself. No one to talk to.

Just alone.

And at that depressing moment, reserved for her to wallow in self-pity, a raven-haired boy of average height burst in furiously, muttering nonsense strings of words. He didn't seem to notice her presence till she cleared her throat indignantly. "Ahem."

His eyes widened as shock settled in like an eager but unwelcome visitor that insisted on staying. Jaw dropping, he quickly shut it and asked briskly, "Who _are _you?" He paced about, obviously frightened but by the way he strode about he still managed to seem dignified. Stopping suddenly, he added curiously, "I've never seen you about before. A ghost, are you?"

Adelaide furrowed her brow in annoyance. So prim and proper. So aristocratic. His manner of speech and his actions reminded her vaguely of Tom. "Yes, I _am _a ghost, as if that weren't obvious enough. My name is Adelaide, and yours?"

"Severus Snape. Pleased to make your acquaintance."


	19. i love you

James idly watched students board the train from the innermost comforts of his compartment. It was always nice to board early. You could then watch the other kids struggle to get on while you yourself observed them comfortably. Sadistic, yes, to a certain extent, but it was in everyone's nature. Lily arrived, soon after, her long hair plaited down the center of her back, eyes jaded and impatient. After a few brief moments she seized her chance, sourcing out a gap in the crowd where she jutted in and boarded the train.

Lily Evans, cutting a queue – who would've guessed? But there wasn't really a queue anyway. Just a whole mass of enraged confusion fumbling to get aboard.

He caught her eye, held his gaze for a moment, and then looked away. Peter and Sirius were engrossed in a game of Wizard's Chess, but Remus was more attentive. "It was Lily, wasn't it?" the werewolf stated matter-of-factly, grinning a little. James merely shrugged, and then turned to the other two and said easily, "I've got to go to the Heads' Compartment, the meeting with the prefects starts in half an hour and I still haven't prepared my speech…"

"And besides, Lily will be there any time soon," he mused as an afterthought, getting up and sliding the compartment door open, before jostling his way to the appointed compartment.

* * *

As I squeezed my way through the surging crowd in the corridor of the train, my mind wasn't really on my destination. It was more…more complicated than that. James Potter, _that _was the problem. The stupid infection that wouldn't go away. He didn't _have_ to kiss me. He could have stayed away…

But what embarrassed me wasn't the fact that he had kissed me. It was the fact that _we _had kissed, that I had kissed _back_.

I walked on; oblivious to the crowd I was in the midst of, thinking.

I couldn't stop thinking about how his lips had come down upon mine. If my life were a cheesy romance novel, the author would have written about how "hot, strong and sweet" the kiss was, how "breathless" we were, and the like… But it was nothing passionate, nothing very much exciting…He had pulled away soon after, after all.

And yet it was the touch that made the whole difference. It was the feel of his lips and the rest of his body against mine, the scintillating, burning _touch _of it all… _James _kissing _me_. It had to be chemistry, yet…chemistry between my ex-rival and I?

I'd had boyfriends before. Their kisses had been much more passionate than James', yet this one felt…better. In a sense, more mature; just better. I couldn't explain it. It made even my first kiss with Frank Longbottom seem mundane and boring. I just liked it…better…than the rest.

And, hours ago, I had been treating him like a stranger, regarding him coldly and keeping my guard up. I blanched at the thought which would have seemed perfectly normal before this week.

I realized that I'd overshot the Heads' Compartment, and retraced my steps. James was inside. I'd better go in and try to ignore him.

And somewhere along the way, I discovered the first signs of infatuation.

* * *

"Hey, Lily," said James quietly, smiling wanly. A few prefects were already seated at the table, but the majority had yet to arrive

I mumbled an answering greeting and took my seat beside him. Retying my hair self-consciously, I briefly summarized my speech. Prefects were an impatient lot and a long speech wasn't a good way to start off a train ride back home. The prefects filtered in groups and pairs and took their respective seats, chattering away loudly with no apparent respect for us heads.

"You can omit all these paragraphs, you know," the lanky Head Boy beside me remarked, "The poll-taking and all that. It's not necessary."

I scowled slightly, still not daring to look him in the eye. "And I suppose you can write a better speech?"

"If you'll let me, perhaps…" he let his suggestion trail off, waiting expectantly.

I shrugged offhandedly, shoving the flimsy piece of parchment over to him. With a look of immense satisfaction, he dipped his quill in my ink-bottle ("You wouldn't mind, would you?") and to my utmost horror, crossed out several paragraphs I had worked on for the whole of last night.

"What are you _doing_?" I whispered fiercely, "Have you any idea how essential these paragraphs are?"

"Apparently not," he grinned insolently, "Or I wouldn't have crossed them all out. But really, it's all unnecessary."

"The hell they are!" I ignored the shocked expressions and arched eyebrows I received from the more conservative prefects.

"Hey, I'd never ruin your speech."

I would have retorted something in reply but everyone had assembled and James was opening the meeting and flirting subtly –whether he knew it or not- with a pretty Gryffindor prefect who was blushing in embarrassment. I felt an unprecedented twinge in my heart, but dismissed it as nervousness and turned to scanning my ruined speech.

To my utmost surprise, it wasn't really ruined. Now I began to see the logic in his editing; these parts _were _a little unnecessary, after all… And yet the fact that he had proved me wrong irked me. With a glance in my direction, his signal for me to continue, James sank down into his seat.

I commenced with my speech, and as I skipped the parts he had crossed out, I could almost _feel _him smirking beside me. "Finally saw the light, eh, Lily?" he whispered smugly as I sat down after telling the prefects to cast their votes in a box in the center of the table.

Oddly enough, I found that cocky demeanor rather endearing, now I knew that he was merely joking around and he could be serious when he wanted to… But I didn't get him. How could he be so…so passionate and serious and caring one day, and arrogant and cocky and playful the next? He was like a cube; there were so many sides to him I didn't know what to expect.

Yet I couldn't help feeling a tad irritated at his smugness. "What light, Potter?" I frowned and "_accio-ed_" the voting box over, noticing him flinch ever so slightly at my use of his last name. Since when had he been so sensitive? But it served him right for calling me by _my _last name. An ear for an ear.

* * *

I pulled out of the barrier exhaustedly, feeling as though I couldn't push my luggage trolley a step further. But I managed. My parents were nowhere in sight, but that didn't surprise me. They never were on time, no matter how much they tried. Someone would always come up in the midst of their leaving…Perhaps this time Petunia had lost her lipstick.

"Gracious, James! You've grown so much taller since I last saw you!" a petite, brown-haired and mousy woman peered at James, whose lean frame was resting easily on a pillar, over wire rimmed spectacles as though scrutinizing a specimen in a Science laboratory, making her way towards him in a hurried sort of manner. Peter trailed behind her embarrassedly, red coloring his cheeks visibly.

James gave a strangled smile, looking as if he'd rather be somewhere else. "Yeah, nice to see you too, Mrs. Pettigrew."

Her lips stretched till they almost covered the whole breadth of her face. "Yes, yes," she exclaimed cheerfully, and then suddenly hunching and peering about her warily, looking almost furtive. "_They _aren't here, are they?"

Peter couldn't have been redder. James frowned and politely stated, "I don't know what you're talking about, Mrs. Pettigrew."

"_Them_…" she hissed. Seeing James' still quizzical expression, she sighed exasperatedly, "_Black and Lupin_."

James narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, but maintained his casual stance. "They've gone…elsewhere, for a while."

Mrs. Pettigrew nodded earnestly, vigorously. "That's good," she said, still nodding, "One dabbles in dark magic and follows He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, while the other is a werewolf, a hybrid. Really, it surprises me why a nice young man like you is friends which such awful people."

"They are my _friends_, Mrs. Pettigrew, and they can be quite pleasant if you get to know them."

"Well," she sniffed, "I don't think I ever want to, what did you say, 'get to know them'. Do you need a lift home? For heavens sake, aren't your parents here to fetch you?"

James didn't bother to conceal his scowl this time. "No thank you. I'm apparating home."

"Indeed," she sighed, yet looking impressed, "Dangerous stuff, apparating is. Peter here nearly _killed _himself during the test; didn't you now, Peter dear? He's retaking the test in January. Oh, and – heavens, look at the time! It was lovely chatting with you, James, but Peter and I really have to go now. Have a wonderful Christmas, dear!"

Waving frantically and pulling and nagging at an apologetic Peter, the pair left the station in a clattering of luggage and coins.

And suddenly James was sitting down on the bench next to me. "Hello," he said casually, yet he was looking away with a sort of deliberation that didn't match his tone of voice.

I nearly jumped, startled by the unprecedented greeting. "Well…hi," I managed, staring down at the floor. A stranger would have thought we'd only just met.

"Things have been pretty complicated lately. Between us, I mean."

I laughed hollowly. "_They sure have_," I thought disdainfully, but I simply said, "Yeah."

"I was thinking of resolving them before we left for the holidays."

"Go on."

Now I was pretty sure why I was being so cold towards him. I was deliberately ignoring him, simply hoping he wouldn't figure out what I'd just worked out… "Well, the kiss. That was uncalled for."

I looked at him for the first time, briefly studying his features, carefully schooled to hold a semblance of indifference…yet his tone betrayed his emotions. I nodded slowly, looking away again. And then came the rash, unprecedented question.

"What did you think of it?"

I parted my lips slightly, staring at the ground mutely. How was I supposed to answer to that question? If I told him… If I admitted it to myself…

_It would become true_.

It hit me like a brick.

"You liked it, didn't you?" he demanded, before I could even process what I'd just admitted to myself. "I know you did, otherwise you wouldn't…you wouldn't have…"

"Kissed back," I finished softly, staring ahead of me blankly, absorbing the whole truth bit by bit.

Wary amazement washed over his face. He laughed bitterly.

"In fifth year I used to fantasize about how it'd be like when I won your heart…it certainly wasn't like this."

Anger flashed a sudden streak in me. "You didn't _win _me," I snapped with chilly hauteur, "I'm not a prize."

"But you like me," he carried his words steadily, carefully, as if carrying a saucer of milk, ignoring my heated words.

A train wailed loudly. For the first time I was aware of the world surrounding me. Before that I had been trapped in an ethereal, rose-tinted bubble. And now it was burst by epiphany – popped as if with a pin, cracked like a walnut, and exposing me to _the _world. And then I was aware of a burning sensation on my chest…which suddenly turned cool. Instinctively, I pulled out the silver chain. The pendant…I gulped involuntarily. Silver as usual, glinting as usual, cool to touch as usual…

Now shaped like a heart.

* * *

"I'll write you."

* * *

"Lily! There you are! Where _have _you gone? We were searching everywhere for you! Didn't we agree to meet by the barrier?"

"Mum, _shush_."

* * *

Things were far from resolved as I mooned about in the car ride home. The sky was a kaleidoscope of colors; the first stars of night were crawling out of the pinks and orange hues of the sunset and twinkling brilliantly against an indigo night sky. A grinning sliver of a moon sat on the horizon like an invisible silly Cheshire cat.

* * *

"Mum, tell her to snap out of that trance. She's freaking me out."

* * *

**Hey, I hope Lily and company weren't acting too cheerful. I wanted to make them seem like they were pretending they didn't care…or something like that. **

**Anyway, to my first flamer (gee, how thrilling) Amy: Thanks for taking the time to point out what you hated about my story. I agree that it is quite boring, so I'll try to put in more action in the story. I don't know if you'll read this, and probably not, but I just have to say this. **

**This story is AU, remember? Thus, it doesn't matter that much whether Hermione's parents know of the magic world or not. I was thinking along the lines of, "Erika doesn't tell her brother much about the magic world, and he in turn doesn't really _like _the magic world, so he doesn't tell Hermione anything about it until she gets her letter". **

**And concerning whether Hermione is a 'mudblood' or not, at first I had the impression that as long as you're magic and your parents aren't, you're a mudblood, regardless of whether any of your aunts/uncles/grandparents etc are magic or not. I apologize if I'm wrong, but anyway.**

**When you suggested that "my story is more boring than a sedative and you were already falling asleep at the keyboard", I believe that you were already sleepy to begin with. My story is boring and I sort of agree with that, but it has never made me sleep before. Exaggeration means saying things you don't mean, so don't exaggerate. But if you weren't exaggerating, then I apologize again.**

**I don't write professionally. I don't claim to be a super talented writer. I only started writing seriously last year. Don't expect me to be perfect, and the same goes for my story. **

**Stasya**

**P.S. I sense that long coveted kiss coming up soon. :) **


	20. Pointlessness

Yet home, I discovered, was not the best remedy after all. Everything I had hoped for was there, yes; a warm atmosphere, comfortable silence, affable remarks tossed here and there… Mother was caring; Dad looked a bit peaky but claimed he had flu… But I missed a certain boldness, a certain brashness, and certain liberties that someone had dared to take. Suddenly it all seemed normal. Like Petunia had made it out to be. _Normal. _

_Too_ normal.

* * *

_Dear Lily,_

_Happy Holidays! I hope you have a wonderful Christmas; I know I will. My brother and his wife lost the baby – isn't it sad? But Anne's as cheerful as usual and my brother is still a little brooding but he'll get over it. By the way, did you **see **the amount of homework we have? Two Transfiguration essays, three_ _potions to write about…oh, and the rest. Hellish, don't you think? I heard that Snape's staying at Hogwarts for the holidays because his parents died – killed, apparently, but the murderer is still at large. Isn't that sad? He never really was that bad. I honestly don't know why James and Sirius hate him. Snape's quite okay, you know. The average Slytherin, I guess – sarcastic, mean and nasty… But he's alright if you leave him alone. I mean, if you do leave him alone he could pass off as a Ravenclaw. He's always studying, don't you think?_

_I shall miss Hogwarts, but mum insisted that I return home. Mothers are always ruining things. Dad's listening to some really old music, and it's pissing me off. But, oh well, that's dad for you._

_I'm so sorry you fell off your broom yesterday morning. I guess I should've been watching you…_

_Erika_

_P.S. Write back soon!_

_-_

_Hey Lils,_

_Frank here. I just thought I'd let you know… you are my ex, after all, and we're still friends – right? Yeah okay and anyway, good news; Alice and I are getting married! You might know Alice and you may not; she was in my year, only she kept to herself a lot. We ran into each other last year and things just bloomed from there…Oh, pshaw, I'm going to bore you with all this._

_But anyway, the wedding will be held during the summer holidays –after your seventh year ends, if I'm correct. It's going to be held at Hogsmeade; Alice did like attention. She reckons she's going to be a la Joan of Arc, riding through the streets…only of course, she's not declaring war on England. Yes, we **are **going to be riding on horses… I don't know where she came up with this ridiculous idea, but hey, anything for her. Oh, and anyway, like I said – she likes attention. Weird, don't you think, after keeping to herself so long in school? But she's changed since Hogwarts, you'd be amazed at the new her. _

_Anyway, the wedding starts at noon precisely and will end at about four, on the last day of July._

_I'll look forward to seeing you there! _

_Love,  
Frank _

_P.S. If you're wondering how I know about Joan of Arc, I read page 45 of your diary while I was still at Hogwarts – you were gushing over how brave and courageous she was. In your diary, I mean. Personally I don't believe in god. Or war. I can almost see you throwing a pillow at me now._

* * *

There were no letters from James.

* * *

It was midnight and I was sitting by the open window, exposed to the cool air and the moon and the stars, gripping the pendant in one hand. It still resembled a heart. Perhaps someone had replaced it…as a joke…but that was impossible. I never took it off. Maybe it was shaped like a heart before, and I just never noticed it…

No, that was impossible too. I was quite sure that before that it didn't have a definite shape – like jelly that splattered on the floor and became a mashed up sort of thing. Perhaps it represented my current emotions, but that meant that…

I swallowed and thought of James as I gazed at the stars. I thought of the astronomy tower, of our sleep on the grounds outside the castle, of…

_Somehow, James Potter had made his way into my life, silently and inconspicuously. He had become part of it; a habitual thing, like a painting on the wall in your house that you pass every time you ascend the stairs but never really take notice of._

I didn't hate him anymore. I didn't even remotely dislike him. I liked him. My feelings for him had gone, in a short space of time, from purely platonic to a slight infatuation that was pulsing in me and growing by the day. Absence made the heart grow fonder. I shuddered, realizing that I'd finally admitted it to myself and it was now _real_- really and truly real.

I tried to remember why I detested him in my previous years. He had been an egocentric prat then, thinking the world of himself and assuming that I surely liked him. Then was then, and now was now, and the past and the present…

-were not linked.

How could a person's feelings change so much? How could I go from detesting him to loving him? How could things possibly _change_? Nothing else had, after all. The moon was the same, the stars were the same, the world was the same – and _I had changed_. It had a surrealistic sense about it. I couldn't possibly- Surely I couldn't-It was impossible-

But it was real.

I thought of his lips burning against mine and yearned for just one more second of that touch.

* * *

James breathed in a gulp of the night air and sighed it all out again. Sirius was over at his parents' place; his uncle had died and left all his money to him, and naturally his parents were unhappy with his uncle's choice of beneficiary – a family outcast and blood traitor. It was all pointless, really; wills could not be altered posthumously and the money would still go to Sirius regardless of whatever the rest of the Blacks had to say.

It was a full moon that night, and he wondered how Remus was. The old garage in his house barely contained him in werewolf form, being battered and worn and tested by storms, hurricanes and the like. Stars – now these were a totally different matter. Stars were dainty and small if you viewed them from afar, but fiery and burning if you got too close. They reminded him of Lily-

sweet, stubborn Lily who liked him but would never admit it.

He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless without feeling that something was holding him back, _without feeling that she didn't belong to him_. He wanted play with her hair and stroke her face and show her that he loved her.

He couldn't _not _do so.

It was driving him crazy and eating him from inside.

How could he possibly concentrate on anything else?

* * *

Dawn came like cat feet, a fragile but steady balance.

* * *

"Oh, psh," Adelaide grumbled, "You're boring me half to death with Defense Against the Dark Arts. Talk about something else."

Severus shrugged, shifting comfortably in a high backed leather swivel chair. Wordlessly he ignited a dusty candle resting on a shelf, just to keep in practice. "Voldemort has been gaining power," he said suddenly, emotionlessly, eyes guarded, "I'm thinking of joining him. Mudbloods, after all, are nothing but filth. Also, Potter and Black will almost certainly become Aurors…I could teach them a lesson they'd never forget, as a deatheater, and with the Dark Lord's protection, it'd be easy to dodge the ministry…"

Adelaide blinked, sat up straighter.

Guardedly: "Voldemort? You mean, Tom Riddle?"

His forehead crinkled, wary amazement washing over his face. "I expect you heard that from a careless Slytherin," his voice sounded troubled, "Not many people know his real name, only the Slytherins, and maybe the Heads, and those who do rarely talk about it."

"Why are you telling me all this – the whole business about you wanting to become a deatheater?"

Severus regarded Adelaide with unconcealed surprise. "You're a friend," he said simply, "I can trust you."

His words, so raw with simplicity that they almost seemed childish, made Adelaide feel ashamed all of a sudden.

Severus Snape wasn't the type of person who trusted people easily. She knew that. And she didn't like the idea of having someone trust her so wholly and devotedly, especially when she barely knew that someone. She did regard him as a friend, yes, but not to the extent where she could confide all her dark, deep secrets in him. But something told her that friendship aside, he could be valuable – valuable in the sense that he was her only connection to Tom Riddle.

* * *

_Hey Erika,_

_This is Lily. I'm so sorry I didn't reply sooner, I was rather depressed for a few days. I'm sorry about the baby too; send my condolences to your brother? Don't worry about the broom incident either; no one's to blame for it. _

_You're right about Snape, I think. He could probably pass off as a Ravenclaw, but why talk about him anyway? I've never really liked him anyway. Call me biased but there's something about him that unnerves me. But I'm sorry about his parents; it'd be **sad** if my parents died…_

_I was thinking; do you want to meet up at Diagon Alley and sort of shop around, and maybe do some homework together there? It's boring to stay home all day, and all my friends around here still have school, so we can't hang around much. Tell me if you can. :) I have something to tell you, anyway, and I think it'd be weird if I wrote to you about it. This kind of matter seems more suited for verbal communication…_

_xoxo,  
Lily_

_-_

_Hey Frank,_

_This is Lily. Yeah, I'll probably be able to attend your wedding – thanks for the invitation and, god, congratulations. I can't believe you're getting married! I mean, well, a few years ago you were just like us 'innocent' teenagers, and now you're getting married to Alice (yes, I do know her)… It just seems so grown up. :) _

_Oh, well. I have to stop now; my apologies for the short letter, but I really have to sleep now. _

_Love,  
Lily _

* * *

"… Amen," Father Bulkely nodded, more to himself than to anyone else. Mother beamed at me.

"Now, wasn't that an inspiring prayer!" she whispered benignly, ever the devout Christian. I glanced to my father on my left, and he shrugged. Petunia, sitting beside him, looked at me once and rolled her eyes. I rolled mine right back. Mother saw, and she scowled.

As we shuffled out of church among the menagerie of at least a hundred others, I ripped the floppy white hat off my head with a relieved sigh as my head cooled immediately. Leave it to mother to decide that it was only proper for us to wear hats to church. Petunia sniggered. She was proud that she was a natural blond, while I was stuck with stick-out-of-the-crowd-like-a-sore-thumb red hair.

"Mum," I decided to ask her, just to annoy my sister, "Can I go to Diagon Alley with a friend sometime during the holidays?"

Petunia scowled again – she seemed to like doing it – and promptly stuck two ear plugs in her ears, listening to some dumb song that was blaring out from her walkman.

"Of course, darling. Ooh, and buy some of these pasties you brought back last time – pumpkin flavoured, aren't they? They were delicious."

I beamed. "Sure, thanks."

That was when I spotted her. Amelia Tyler was poised elegantly on one of those pretty iron curlicue benches, seated with none other than Sirius Black. He was staring resolutely ahead, seemingly wanting to be elsewhere, while she was talking to him coaxingly.

"…the humiliation of it all," I heard her say, "Being _dumped_! You know, James had been giving me some rather covetous glances before the holidays started, I think he wants us to get back together, only he's too proud to ask me to return to him…You're his best friend, after all, you're in the best position to arrange a meeting between him and me… perhaps convince him to go on a blind date with me…"

"Look, woman, can't a guy go looking for a motorcycle in peace? The minute I apparate into glorious muggle London, you have to see me immediately and ruin the whole novelty of being in a new place. What's between you and James all happened in the past, and he likes Red, not you, so please get your sorry little head out of the clouds. Goodbye."

He stalked off with chilly hauteur, muttering swear words as he did, oblivious to the appraising glances he received from some girls.

"Sirius Black! You can't just walk off like that, you-" Amelia was clearly incensed as she got up, balancing gracefully on her black stilettos – which was something that I could never manage – and glaring at his back with a look of utter hatred, all the while receiving odd looks from people around.

"I can, and-" he turned around to regard her icily, and then froze in mid-sentence as he caught sight of me. "Red?"

He'd seen me. Oh, god, he'd seen me. Now Amelia was looking at me in shock and a certain degree of the same hatred she'd been regarding Sirius Black. And that was when I realized that my family was way ahead, and dad was beckoning to me to hurry up and go over.

"I don't get why he likes you," Amelia was muttering to cover up her embarrassment, "You aren't even pretty, and you're a _redhead_."

I shrugged, sort of triumphant that I had managed to make Sirius Black tongue-tied. "There's a place where they sell motorcycles, down Perry Street," I said, jerking a finger in the direction of said place.

Raising his eyebrows, he grinned. "Thanks," he nodded and winked, "I think your folks are getting pretty impatient," he added, raising an eyebrow in the direction of my family.

"Patience is a virtue," I grinned but shrugged nonchalantly as he apparated away. I myself apparated away to join my family then, leaving behind an incensed Amelia Tyler. And when an officer of the Ministry arrived almost immediately to obliviate the muggles, Sirius and I were far away, and Amelia was left to deal with the mess.

-

**Hey all. God, I'm so sorry for the long wait, so I did an extra long chapter…well, it's not that long; it's really a combination of three tiny chapters. I've –blushes- only recently realized that I haven't been giving my reviewers the credit they deserve… and I'm sorry. ): You keep me going, really. **

**KC Gryffy: I don't know if you'll read this, but thank you REALLY for the compliments. –hugs- Criticism…well, I guess I prepared myself for that. Thanks anyway. (: **

**Sarah: Thanks also for the compliment! I hope it isn't too slow moving, though; I had that impression. Heh. And as for Mrs. Pettigrew… well, I thought _someone _had to write about her, lol.**

**blvd: Thank ye kindly!**

**Hurleygurl****: Yeah, they do that a lot, don't they? Human nature, I guess… (: **

**Nightfireangel: Thanks!**

**The all mighty and powerfulM: Yep, she likes him…after all, this is a romance story, lol.**

**Anne: The necklace is just… a small addition, but since everyone seems to like the idea of a mysterious necklace, I guess I'll make its role in the story bigger.**

**MistressBill: Heh, I'm lazy, sorry. Thanks for reviewing, so, did the lambs stop screaming?**

**Freja Lercke-Falkenborg****: Oops! I guess I like to play around with people's voices… but I think James' voice will be a baritone. I like baritones. (:**

**And thank you to all my other reviewers! I swear I'll write more responses… just, uh, review? Lol. **

**xoxo**

**Stasya**


	21. the cliché

_Dear Lily,_

_Diagon Alley? I'd love to! Only, I've got a part time job as a waitress – Christmas season is really hectic – and I'll only be free on Saturdays and Sundays, but I reckon you'll have to attend church on Sundays. Saturday, then, how about it? I'll buy gifts for **everyone** there. Magic items are so much more interesting than Muggle stuff. _

_Say, you know your ex – Longbottom – is getting married? The bride is Alice Prewett; I know her quite well, she tutored me in Divination during my fifth year. She's nice, I suppose, though not as nice as you. Though you can get _moody _at times, but… yeah. :)_

_Oh, and what _do _you want to tell me at Diagon Alley? It'd better be good…_

_Erika_

_P.S. Would you mind feeding Tanya for me? Thanks… she's had a long flight from my place to yours. _

Pen hovered over parchment hesitantly, but I decided to feed Erika's white owl first. Tanya was rather pretty- she had several black markings around her eyes, giving the appearance of a female Zorro. Loud music pounded at the walls from Petunia's room next door; I did a small tap dance to the bread crumbs I kept especially for my own owl, caught up in the rhythm, and waltzed back. Tanya clucked in appreciation, inclining her feathered head as though nodding.

"Wait here," I told her, "I'll get some water for you."

When Tanya had fed well, slaked her thirst, and rested enough, I sent her off again with an adequately long letter – how was she, I know about Frank's marriage but I've never really met Alice, could you actually study Divination, Saturday would be fine and I'd meet her outside Madam Malkin's. Thank you, love - Lily. Letter writing was simple; just get straight to the point. Save the details for conversation.

I settled on my bed with a small sigh of exhaustion, forming a dent in the mattress where there wasn't one previously. I must be getting heavier, I mused, feeling the _new_ bed sag considerably beneath me. It wasn't soft, either, but anyway.

The lights were dim; the windows were shut - it was hot and small beads of sweat glistened like tears on my neck, despite the chill confined outside the boundary of the window. I shut my eyes, feeling my eyelids sink down further like rocks every passing second. Very soon, swiftly as water running between sharp rocks, the train to dream world pulled away with me slumbering peacefully in one of its many carriages.

* * *

James spared the house elf a withering glance, with many more to spare yet. The Potter temper was already straining at his insides, his sanity a wall that confined it. "Don't _ever _touch my broom," he thundered at the terrified elf, "Or you're dismissed!"

Sirius' familiar drawl came floating down the corridor, lending him some calmness to ride on. "Calm down, mate. He only decided to do you a favour by polishing it for you. You're supposed to be pleased. Smile."

"This broom isn't supposed to be polished in the first place… One disadvantage of the great broom of the century is that _polish doesn't agree with its wood._"

"Then it can't possibly be the great broom of the century, eh? Cheer up – some cleaning charm will have the broom alright in a second. You're dismissed, I mean, you can go," Sirius waved a dismissive hand at the still cowering –but visibly relieved – house elf.

James was scowling, but he quickly broke into a grin. "Never tell a house elf that he's dismissed," he nodded solemnly, "He'll just take it the wrong way and start bawling at your feet."

"Touché."

James stretched, yawning, made his way to the kitchen with a sort of rugged elegance few possessed. "We'll have to go to Diagon Alley next Saturday," he reminded his companion, "If we're ever going to play that prank on the ICA. Besides, Diagon Alley seems to be a better place to source for jokes of our like than Hogsmeade. Zonko's is getting _old_."

"You never know," Sirius said, biting into some leftover apple pie, with all the mock seriousness of a wise sage, "I found a fake joke pink hairbrush and snuck it into the Girls' Dormitory before the holidays started… According to the salesman, it's the latest fashion thing, so I reckon some girls will have a _bad _hair day when school re opens.

"Padfoot, that's getting old."

"Since when haven't I done things just for a laugh?"

"Right."

They gazed around the kitchen in silence, comfortably munching on apple pie, before Sirius spoke again. "Hey, you know when I went to London this afternoon?"

"To buy the motorcycle, right? What about it?"

"I saw your old girlfriend."

"What old girlfriend?"

"Tyler. Amelia. Amelia Tyler."

"Oh. Her."

"And I saw Red."

James dropped his apple pie, heavenly taste forgotten. "Lily? Really?"

"Tyler was begging me to match-make you two. Lily happened to be passing by."

"Oh, damn, Lily heard?"

"Everything. What did Tyler do?"

"Threatened Lily. But that's not the point. Lily _heard _her…begging you to…"

"Well, yeah."

"Life is sad."

"Tell me about it."

* * *

"What're you buying for your folks?"

"Quills," I declared, "They'd like a surprise beyond the regular items. And maybe some books on the history of the magic world. They like things like that."

"Your sister?"

"Stamps. She collects them."

As Erika and I roamed the quaintly cobbled streets of Diagon Alley, my purse grew lighter. There were so many things I wanted to buy – pretty enchanted decorations apart from the clichéd mistletoe, stationary, a new cauldron which I didn't really need… And the pumpkin pasties my mother had mentioned last Sunday. She would be pleased.

Evening eddied tentatively, straining to bring the sun down. First the cover of the paperback I had only just bought was ruined; a large drop splattered right onto the title in a kind of transparent shadow black, blotting out the background and effectively smudging the beautiful cursive font. Water roller-coasted down from the sky, dropping heavily onto wherever it could reach its blue fingers into.

We steered ourselves into a pub. Butterbeer was sold there, but the ones at Hogsmeade tasted _and _smelt much better, we decided. We subsequently pushed the drinks aside and asked for pumpkin juice. Apparently the pumpkin juice at Hogwarts was ordered straight from there.

"The rain should stop in about half an hour," Erika observed, "It isn't very heavy. The sky isn't that dark either."

"I don't trust you. Weather forecasters are unspeakably optimistic."

"Oh, please, Lily, since when _haven't _you-"

It was as if the rainwater on me had frozen over. Opposite me, behind Erika, was James Potter.

She whirled around just in time to catch him smirking. "Potter," she raised an eyebrow, "What're you doing here?"

Sirius joined him, following which they pulled out the two extra chairs and sat themselves down, uninvited. None of us girls protested, still. I was too shocked to do so. Besides, even if I weren't shocked, I wouldn't have minded. "We thought that Diagon Alley would have some good steals, you know, since we've been through every item at Zonko's," Sirius smiled sweetly.

"Should've known," Erika muttered, "Can't you people do some normal stuff when you go shopping? Like, shop for Christmas presents."

"Two butterbeers, please," James called out to an elf waitress. She nodded at him, earrings dangling dramatically as she did so. He turned to Erika and smiled as Sirius did, "We make our Christmas presents."

I found myself contriving a wry smile. Unexpectedly, I spoke up, "I wouldn't recommend the butterbeers."

Sirius looked at me oddly while James had his face in the most indiscernible expression I had ever seen. "All butterbeers taste the same," he told me slowly.

"This one? No."

Erika gestured towards our abandoned glasses of the drink, "You're welcome to try some," she laughed, tossing her chestnut hair elegantly. Her earrings jangled as the elf's did. She looked hard at the two of them, as if daring them to prove her wrong.

"Fine."

They drank.

"You're…right."

"I told you!" Erika triumphed, grinning.

In the meanwhile, the elf waitress was looking at us with a rather mean expression.

"We'll cancel the orders for the Butterbeer, miss," James told her jovially, unaware of her evident displeasure, "We'll have whiskey instead."

If possible, her face turned even uglier. With a flounce of a lacy white apron, she disappeared into the kitchen.

"So, Lily, what were you planning to tell me?" Erika said calmly.

I quirked an eyebrow, "Tell what?"

"You know, in your letter you said you were going to tell me something."

I froze, managing a tiny and hopefully unnoticeable gulp, vaguely aware of three pairs of eyes scrutinizing me. "Oh…that was nothing," I said as un-weakly as I could, shrugging it off.

Particularly a pair of brown eyes…

"If it was nothing, you wouldn't have wasted one sentence worth of ink on it, Lily…" her eyes glinted with amusement. _She knew! _The table, save for our voices, was deadly silent as our two male companions observed the whole matter with deep interest.

"One sentence is nothing."

"If James and Sirius weren't here, would you tell me?"

I blinked and stayed silent for a moment too long. I made the mistake of glancing at the two of them. Sirius had that curiosity-won't-kill-me look, and James…his eyes were resting on me distantly.

"Maybe," I answered at last, but it was too late. The true answer was unspoken, but evident.

"You're a bad liar, Red," Sirius said finally.

At least I didn't stammer. I smiled vaguely at him, sipping my pumpkin juice. If only two of them hadn't stumbled in on us. Then I could confess everything to Erika without having the burden of two interested, nervousness-sourcing eyes. Damn James Potter. Damn Sirius Black.

"So, Prongs, I guess we'd better go and leave these two ladies for their chat," Sirius' smile was lazy, typical Slytherin.

"Yeah, 'Kay."

He got up with an easiness that suggested weightlessness, looking intently at me. My gaze was schooled in a calm fashion, coolly, indifferently sliding over him and directed at my menu. It was a… convincing attempt. I hoped. _But he knows already. Why try to deny it?_

I wouldn't make myself vulnerable to him. If I collapsed merely of one hazel-eyed gaze, it'd be... defying _everything_ I'd believed since fourth year. _So you don't want to succumb because you've been resisting for so long, and suddenly submitting to him would mean a loss of pride? _

I shrugged to myself.

"So," came a voice, jerking me out of my reverie, "What _did _you want to tell me?"

I realized that James and Sirius had left already. Looking her in the eye, I said matter-of-factly, "Guess." She'd get the answer. I was sure of that. Erika never failed me.

"James Potter."

Ever the blunt one.

I shrugged, but not managing to conceal a faint blush that crept onto my cheeks.

"I knew it!" Erika smirked, sipping pumpkin juice. She glanced around her, as if expecting James to pop out any moment.

"I never _said _anything!"

"Stop denying it!"

Previously I had cast a charm on the purchases to make them lighter. Now I transfigured them into smaller sizes, tossing them into one tiny paper bag. Just to stall for time.

"Girl, spill."

I paused, not wanting to reveal the more intimate matters. "I'm guilty for treating him so badly in the past," I blurted out, turning red. She raised an eyebrow. Clearly that wasn't what she'd expected. Frankly, I was surprised at myself – I'd never admitted that to myself before, but coming out of my mouth now it seemed true. James was… nice.

Oddly I remembered the incident outside the church with Amelia, wondered why Sirius had never brought it up.

"Apologize," she grinned.

"No!"

"What else?"

"What else what?" confused by the sudden change of topic.

"You're sorry for treating him badly. What else?"

I focused, staring, at her pearl drop earrings. "Nice earrings," I noted absently.

Smugly: "You like him."

"I never said anything," I stated inanely, but my weak protest would do naught to curb what was she already knew.

* * *

From underneath the blue checked tablecloth of a vacant table, a black dog bounded out into the light drizzle, nearly tripping a pretty elf waitress with dangling earrings. She yelled in outrage but it ran on.

* * *

"God, mate, she likes you. She really does."

* * *

I'd forgotten how tall he was.

He stood at the other end of the aisle at Flourish and Botts, leaning easily on the bookshelf. All of a sudden the lights seemed dim, and the oriental carpet beneath my feet seemed to be wrapping them up and rooting me to the spot. Stay…calm. "Hi," his voice was deeper than I thought it was, but I perceived it to be my imagination.

"Hey."

I turned to choosing a book once more, but his eyes on me were disturbing. Where was Erika? Oh, right, she was having those new dress robes fitted. "Hey, Lily."

There he went again! Could he not leave me alone? I mentally erased the pounding at my mind, sighing quietly. "What?"

I glanced at his eyes once and immediately my gaze flickered over to the spines of old books. One could not possibly look into these eyes and lie. My heart…was beating, running and running like a freight train. Thump.

"What're you doing?"

Wasn't it obvious – I was _choosing a book. _Couldn't he see that? He didn't _have _to ask such inane questions. It should be made a crime. A crime a crime a crime-

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

He came over and took the book from me. "Seven golden rules to lose weight?"

Oh. Shit.

Deny everything, or play along?

"Oh. I'm getting it for my… cousin. She wants to know if…if magic can help her lose weight."

"Right…" he rolled his eyes, shoving the offensive book back on the bookshelf, "You weren't even _looking _at the title when you plucked it off the shelf."

Defensively: "I can see from the corner of my eye."

"Then you would make a brilliant seeker."

"I can't fly. You know that."

"That can be fixed…"

"Alright, alright! I _can't _see from the corner of my eye, happy?"

"Everyone can," he shrugged dismissively, "Just that some people do it much better."

I was standing in one of the lesser visited aisles in a small bookshop with James Potter, with whom I was having a pointless conversation with. It sounded ridiculous. I shrugged, turning to pretend to scan the shelves for another book, while really trying to figure out how to get away from him. His mere _presence _was unnerving. One look at his eyes – I would… melt? No, that would sound too cliché. I'd…

"Lily."

"Yes?"

"_Look _at me."

I found myself obeying him, glancing once at his face questioningly. My heart was pounding; my neck and shoulders were tight. "Yes?" It came out sounding smaller than I had hoped it to be. He was…looking at me. Not staring, not smiling, not gaping – just looking. Then his face twisted into mischief's mirror, and he held up something vaguely familiar…

The heart-shaped pendant. Its chain was broken; it must have slipped off my neck when I was strolling around just now. Suddenly I was filled with an aching desperation to have it around my neck again, to feel the cool silver embrace my skin…

"Give it back!"

I think he ran deliberately slowly. I think he had a reason for letting me catch him.

I slipped in front of him, obscuring his path. The pendant dangled alluringly from his hand. His eyes, darker than ever, smiled down at me from behind rimmed glasses. He caught my wrists as I reached for the desired pendant. When I gasped softly, protesting, he kissed me.

Words whispered through my mind. _This isn't happening. You can't kiss him, you hate him! God, girl, this is your lucky day._

He pressed his lips to mine, both hands cupping my face gently. I think… I think I kissed back. By instinct, almost naturally, I wound my arms around his neck. I remembered feeling his tongue touching my lips and being surprised. Then it was all over and we drew apart, staring silently at each other in the dim orange light of the bookshop, the musty scent of old tomes and the sound of our own breathing clouding our thoughts.

I…we…were lost.

He whispered some words to me, and I nodded without registering what he'd said. All I could do was follow him out of the shop, then watch him disappear into the kaleidoscope colors of the street lamps, house lights and burnt orange dying sunset. When I unclenched my hand, a heart shaped pendant fell out, shining more brightly than ever.

* * *

Hi, I just wondered – do you want me to make Amelia a big part of this story? Do tell. :) Also, I hope this chapter wasn't too fast moving.

Cookies and thanks to nightfireangel, The all mighty and powerfulM, Freja, Hurleygurl and dancer4eva – you guys rock my socks.

Stace


	22. Black Perspective

Thanks to all my wonderful reviewers – love you all! (:  
I'm in a really cheerful mood today because I've just completed chapter 24 and am in the process of drafting it.

About the whole Amelia thing:

The all mighty and powerfulM: Thanks for being such a loyal reviewer. (: Okay, I know the whole thing about James having a jealous admirer is cliché, and I promise you – Amelia will not have a big part in the story. She will last until chapter 24, and then she'll just… die out? I promise you that you will not find the Amelia showdown cliché (at least, I don't think so, heh)… Well, I've tried to make it as original as possible. (:

Crystal Kisses: Nope…she won't prove to be an obstacle. Not much of one, anyway. Yes… it was incredibly sweet of James to return the pendant to Lily. ;) Thanks for reviewing!

nightfireangel: Thanks for your reviews so far… -gives you cookies- Yes, I like the part about Sirius under the table… it was pretty random, but I liked it anyway. I'm glad you don't think it's fast moving.

Princess-of-Clubs: Thanks, Sally! I'm glad you too don't think it's fast-moving.

Hurleygurl: Thanks. People like you make my day. :D

evaneccance: Yep, I'm also not too fond of incomplete stories… Thanks for your review!

xLynex: I'm glad you think so…

Anne: You give one of the longest reviews ever! Heh. Thanks so much for taking the time, and I'll try to give Erika more action as well. I hope you like this chapter!

Beckus: Thank you! You give short reviews (no offence), but they really make my day. (:

Stace

P.S. I feel like a real despot, but for those DMHG shippers, maybe you'd like to read my one-shot – "Perhaps"… Yeah. –insert sheepish face here-

P.S.S. I assure you that the part about Lily wearing all black is absolutely random, and she is in no way a goth.

--

James Potter kissed me. The words strung and unstrung themselves in my head, swarming around like they were playing a game of tag. James Potter kissed me two times. And I let him. It was believable, but still surreal. My years worth of detest had vanished in a matter of months. This needed… getting used to. He _kissed _me. _I _kissed him back willingly.

Groaning, burying my head in a downy pillow, thinking hard.

One more week or so, and I would be packed off to Hogwarts again. The sooner the better. Or so Petunia would think. What would I do with a now fully potential boyfriend on hand? Go out with him. That was what Erika would say. Then, after the year ended, we'd break up and go our separate ways, right? Was I… ready to go out and break up with someone in a matter of months? Surely it was inevitable. We were worlds apart and Hogwarts was our only connection. Once we left Hogwarts, we'd break up. That's what would happen. It would all be pointless, but…

The scary thing was that when I tried to think _ahead _of James, tried to envision any future boyfriends I might have after James, I couldn't think of any. Just a big black swirling hole that had once been filled up with James Potter.

* * *

The next week flitted by in a flurry, in a memory – only _one _memory. I woke up one Sunday morning to realize that I would be returning to school the next day. In the next few hours, I rushed out five essays before pushing myself to pack all my books which I had daftly scattered all around my room.

The whole James thing was getting out of hand.

I looked in the mirror, pretending I was looking at James Potter. "You're making my life a mess," I told the imaginary James, biting my lip. With a sigh, I resumed my packing. James Potter, James Potter, James… what was his middle name? That was something I resolved to find out.

* * *

"Lily, Lily – wake up. You're going to be late."

It was a hurried morning. Time seemed to ebb on faster than ever, me hurrying to keep up with it as I pulled on black everything – black shirt, black pants, black sweater, black hair band, black shoes. Black seemed a practical colour. I liked it more nowadays. I had barely shut my trunk before Petunia knocked at my door. She seemed quite reluctant to say "Someone's downstairs. They're asking if you want a lift."

Only half aware of my disheveled appearance and red, sleepy eyes, I dragged my trunk downstairs, ironically enjoying each thump sound it made and not bothering to levitate it instead. Dumping the heavy wooden thing beside the Christmas tree, I opened the front door a trifle, not sure who to expect.

When Sirius Black smirked down at me, James Potter beside him and looking as though he had just gotten out of bed, I was snapped into an anxious state of self-consciousness. My hair wasn't brushed properly, my face looked tired, my eyes were red…

"What are _you _guys doing here?" I blurted out, glancing behind me to make sure no one was watching.

"Good morning to you too, Red," Sirius yawned.

James gave a wry smile. "We were wondering if you'd like to come with us. We're apparating to the train station. Reminds me of the time we rode brooms to school in third year, eh, Padfoot?"

"You forgot that the Hogwarts Express overtook us anyway and we were late and soaked by the rain which the dumb muggle weather forecaster failed to predict."

"Forecasters don't predict the weather," I pointed out, "Meteorologists do, and besides, they don't _predict_. They infer. Anyway, I can't apparate. I missed the test as I was down with fever and I'm taking it again sometime this February."

Sirius and James shared a look. "We'll do side-along apparating, then. Try to imagine the ticket counter. That's where we're landing."

I was vaguely reminded of an airplane.

I left with them after informing my parents that I'd be apparating with them, and that they were perfectly respectable gentlemen who wouldn't lay a finger on me. It didn't hurt to lie a little. Handling my trunk and owl cage carefully, James' hand closed around mine, I found myself at the train station a moment later. "That was fast," I found myself saying unexpectedly.

Sirius laughed and I turned a deep crimson. Of course it was fast. It was _apparition, _for goodness sake! What was I trying to do – make an ass out of myself? Even James was chuckling. I didn't know what to do so I shrugged it off and made off towards the barrier. They followed. We found Erika and split up, leaving Erika and I to settle down in one compartment.

"They've changed the pillows," she said absently. Trust her to remember such things.

I laughed and we both shared a copy of a popular muggle magazine, sitting comfortably with legs propped up on the seat opposite us. It wasn't long before she started randomly singing "Lily loves James". Her voice got louder. I despaired. "_Erika!_"

She stopped singing and looked at me, smiling sweetly. "You'll get married someday, mark my words," Tossing her hair lightly.

"Oh, please, as if I'm going to _marry _him."

"No?"

"How would I know?"

She laughed. As we reveled in friendly camaraderie I found myself suddenly wondering how Adelaide was, and feeling guilty over not … I didn't know… being a good friend? Whichever friend left her companion behind in a lonely big castle fraught with musty corridors surely wasn't a good friend. Surely she'd understand, though. It was the same every year. Adelaide wouldn't mind…much.

For this train trip, there was no prefect's meeting, and thus I probably would not get to see James till the New Year's feast.

* * *

His heartbeat quickened as Lily approached. He had meant to talk to her only in the privacy of their Head Dormitories, but the table was all full and she and Erika didn't have much choice but to sit beside him.

It was an uncomfortable situation. Peter finally broke the silence with a crisp address to Erika; "You've forgotten my twenty galleons."

Erika seemed genuinely surprised, but she was a good actress. "I don't owe anyone money, Pettigrew," she stated pointedly.

"Well, of course you do," Sirius laughed, "Remember, it's past the end of December and Prongs and Red haven't yet gotten together."

Why, _why _did they have to bring this up? Lily was uncomfortable, he could tell, and he wanted nothing more than to grab her and bring her to their dormitory where they could enjoy maximum privacy. Just to get away from all this. He tried to change the subject but Erika cut in with a sly grin and a smartass remark that made Lily blush deeply. He hadn't paid much attention to what she had said, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

Lily retorted something that made Erika shrug.

He grinned despite not having caught what she'd said. Atta girl.

"Hey, Granger, Evans!" someone hollered at them. An Asian boy, dark skinned and from Ravenclaw, called out to his female companions. "Care to join us?"

He and Sirius exchanged surmising glances.

"Do I know him?" Lily was asking Erika doubtfully. The latter shook her head, saying instead, "Uh… I went out with him in fourth year. We're friends now. C'mon, let's go over."

"Granger, about the ten galleons-" Sirius started, but said brunette was desperately dragging Lily towards the Ravenclaw table.

"Poorhouse wretch," he rolled his eyes.

"Aw, c'mon," James laughed, though something in his demeanor hinted at disappointment, "You don't need the money."

Sirius muttered something about misplacing his key to his Gringotts bank vault.

Remus was still rather wan. James, suddenly overcome with epiphany, enquired concernedly, "Full moon last night, Moony?"

"Oh, yes," a saccharine sweet voice trilled, "I didn't know you were interested in astronomy too, James."

He froze when Amelia Tyler made her presence known, seating herself at the seat Lily had vacated moments ago, her friend – what was her name? – sitting beside her, engrossed in a book.

"Tyler." It came out sounding rather strangled.

"This is the Gryffindor table," Peter injected indignantly.

"We're aware of that. After all, a person like James Potter couldn't belong anywhere but the prestigious house of Gryffindor…" Amelia laughed, inclining her head slightly.

"So what are you, the pathetic excuse of a Ravenclaw, doing at the, ah… _prestigious house of Gryffindor_?" Sirius' gaze was piercingly cold, icily blue – terrifying.

Amelia looked mildly offended but otherwise unruffled. "And why are you, Black, not with _them_?"

She gestured towards Bellatrix and Regulus Black, engaged in bored conversation with their fellow green cloaked housemates – all the while letting a tiny smirk linger at the corners of her painted lips, knowing she'd hit a raw spot. She was proven right when he gritted his teeth, unfolded his long, angular body, towering over the still smirking Amelia, staring down at her till Remus and James forcibly pulled him down.

Voice venomous, dripping with blatant dislike, he spat something which not even Slughorn would have approved of. Amelia's friend, realizing the graveness of the situation, quickly said something which was supposed to restore "peace", but still Sirius glowered at Amelia.

The latter, on the other hand, dropped the taunt and resumed chatting to James. The way her one-sided conversation went, it was soon clear that she was trying to impress him with her intelligence while still being charming. She was –simply put – fake.

* * *

Leong Ming turned out to be… mildly interesting. Occasionally he and Erika would talk about something I happened to be interested in, and I joined in, but that was it. It was a while before I realized the presence of Amelia Tyler and her friend at the seats which were once mine and Erika's, and that Amelia was hitting on James…

Oh.

Then I remembered something.

"Hey, Leong Ming," I started, tasting the unfamiliar syllables on my tongue (Erika chuckled at my pronunciation of his name and I blushed slightly), "Wasn't Amelia sitting right here where Erika is a few moments before you called us?"

His almond shaped eyes turned to circles, one eyebrow arched. "Yeah, why?"

"Is it really just a coincidence that Erika and I," I gestured, "Have switched places with Amelia and…"

"Dina," he confirmed. On his face was an expression of defeat and indifference. "No, it's not a coincidence."

Erika seemed to realize what I'd just realized. "So why aren't you denying it?" she searched his face as if she'd find answers there.

"Why not?" he shrugged, "I never liked Amelia."

"So _why _did you help her in the first place?" Erika probed further, fixing him with a half-hearted glare.

"For the sake of talking to someone I knew," his shoulders rose again, falling back down like waves. "Amelia is not a very good dinner companion."

I nodded sympathetically.

Now, to get our seats back.

Erika seemed to read my thoughts. Snorting, she stated, "We can't just tell her to scram. Well, actually, we can, only I'm fine sitting here, though you might want to be near your precious James Potter once more."

A warm flush of colour worked its way steadily to my cheeks. "I just don't like Amelia," I attempted, "And her doing this is rather… low."

Leong Ming grinned. "You are such a bad liar," he noted, bemused, "Fine, then, I'll do you two – or rather, Evans – a favour."

"What favour?" I wanted to ask. He stood up and was already catching James' eye before I realized what he wanted to do and quickly –and forcefully – pulled him back down before he could say anything.

"You are _not _switching places with him," I said flatly.

He gave me a shrug and a smile, topped off with a classic wink. "Just thought I'd try."

Erika looked bored. "Lily, if you're too shy to just get up tell and tell the girl-"

"I am most definitely not shy," I interrupted, protesting.

"-I'm not going to do it for you," she finished, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.

"I never said I wanted you to." I retorted.

Erika looked stung, instantly forcing all my exasperation out of my system, and regret settled in all the vacant spots within me. In the slowly dimming light of the hall I saw her rolling her eyes and recovering with an indifferent phrase. Leong Ming laughed at something she said, but from then on I paid no attention to their conversation.

* * *

Amelia Tyler wondered how James Potter would like to be offered some cheesecake. No, he seemed more of a chocolate fudge person – or perhaps he liked cheesecake after all? She decided on the cheesecake. No one could resist cheese.

Soaring hopes plummeted when he rejected her offer blatantly, insisting he wasn't hungry. Sirius Black glared at her and she glared back – she didn't understand; were friends allowed to unreasonably tell people to back off, when in all honesty all they'd done was to sit beside them?

Inwardly, she sighed. James Potter was still ignoring her. "The pumpkin juice is lovely," she remarked, "As always, of course."

"I prefer Butterbeer." He responded coldly.

"Yes, of course," she agreed, "It's the best drink wizard kind ever invented, don't you think?"

"The best." He shrugged, and she noticed with little hope that he was sneaking glances at Lily Evans. Some jealousy tinged her heart.

"Oh, and James, our NEWTS are just around the corner – I haven't even started studying for Charms, but it's my best subject, so hopefully I won't have to put in too much effort into Charms revision… still, could you tutor me in Astronomy? You seem to like it, but I on the other hand don't know how to identify the various stars and all…"

For the first time during their conversation he looked directly at her, and her heart leapt. "Ask Sirius. He knows more about Astronomy that I do." Her heart froze in mid-leap, fell crashing to a dark crevice somewhere within her.

"I don't know, James, Sirius… I don't think he likes me." She smiled dryly, sparing the horrified Sirius Black a passing glance. "Don't you think you could tutor me yourself? You really are too modest for your own good, James; sometimes we all need to shine a little."

Now, where had that come from? She couldn't in her life imagine herself uttering words as cheesy as these, but anything to win the heart of her beloved…

"I've got to go. There's a meeting tomorrow, Prefect's Room, password's been changed to Moldy-Voldy. Spread the message." His jaw was clenched and his voice was strained, as though speaking to her was a chore. She left him leave, abandoning her pursuit for the day, feeling a painful disappointment stir in her and grow like a tumor as the distance between them stretched till he was out of sight.

* * *

James knew that his footsteps were quicker than usual, and it was a while before he relaxed and slowed. His jaw unclenched of its own accord now he was far away from Amelia Tyler. That girl. What a brilliant way to be welcomed back to Hogwarts.

"Prongs! Hey, prongs!"

Sirius jogged up to him, falling into his step with a nonchalant ease.

"Tyler got to you, eh?"

James shrugged, trying instead to think of something else.

"Suit yourself. Then I won't tell you what Red wanted me to tell you."

"Padfoot."

"Not unless you tell Red to convince that friend of hers to pay up," the lanky wizard pushed.

"Go hound her yourself, uh, please?" James glanced at his friend.

"Nope. She's put this spell on me that involves me not being able to go within five feet of her."

"Didn't Lily use that spell in fifth year?"

"To get away from you, yes, but that's off topic."

"Owl her."

"Do you honestly think she'll reply?"

"Fine, fine. Now spit."

"Nothing. That part about Red was just bait."

"_Padfoot!_" James rolled his eyes at the smirking Sirius in unconcealed exasperation.

"See you around, lover boy." Sirius blew a fake kiss, grinning, and disappeared around the nearest corner.

James raised a skeptical eyebrow at his friend's antics, proceeding to utter, in bored habit, the password to the lethargic portrait that hung just in front.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Potter. The young lady in there told me to ask you if you've recently planted a fake hairbrush into the Gryffindor Girls' Dormitory, and if your answer is 'yes', not to let you in." It winked.

His heartbeat quickened and he forgot to be irritated with Amelia Tyler, and let out an involuntary chuckle. "No, that was Sirius Black. Can I come in now?"

The Hippogriff in the portrait let out a barking, hoarse laugh, winking again as it swung open a trifle. "She paid a visit to that particular dormitory just now," it confided, "Her hair is now all green and her eyes are red."

It laughed again, and James, stepping inside, found himself wondering and amused at what it'd just said. A wonderful hairbrush, it seemed. How would Lily look with green hair and red eyes?

Her room was locked, he noted, trying to turn it, and the usual '_Alohamora_' wouldn't work either. Tiny noises came from inside, together with frenzied mutterings. Lily seemed in a right panic. He knocked on the door and called out - she claimed to be dressing.

Then again, he remembered reading about something in an old book written by Enid Blyton – when he was about eight -, and perhaps there wouldn't be much harm in trying it…

Soon he had a tiny piece of wire, which was really his transfigured sock, and, pushing it into the lock, began to jiggle it everywhere. It was a few moments before he heard the satisfactory 'click'. Muggles really were ingenious.

Her back was facing him, and apparently she hadn't heard or seen him – yet. The green in her hair was slightly faded, and around her were her Charms textbooks of this year and the last, looking more well thumbed than ever. Apparently she didn't dare to look up a counter spell in the library, not in her current state. She was pointing her wand at her hair, repeatedly muttering a spell he couldn't quite identify with.

It all seemed to him rather amusing, that he leant back on the wall behind him and chuckled. He was grinning when she spun around, eyes wide and startled. Fury and surprise struggled in her eyes and the contours of her face. "I _told _the portrait not to let you in," she muttered darkly. His grin grew wider.

"Too bad. It was Sirius who did the deed, and hello to you too," he smiled.

It was nice to see a glimpse of the fifteen year old Lily as she half shouted that she'd have her revenge on Sirius the next day – such a change from her now usually absolutely serious self. Had he triggered the outburst? No, he supposed it was the prank. They hadn't played a prank on her in eons, nor hexed someone right in front of her. They had admitted last year that hexing people was dishonourable, though it was a tad different with pranking.

"Relax. Worst come worst, I'll get Sirius to apologize."

"That's the worst? I'll make him dye his hair _pink _and announce to the whole school that he's gay, and then-"

"Aw, Lily, better not crush Diana Appleby's heart. You know, that Ravenclaw prefect? I've seen her scrawling his name on her notebook during prefect meetings, and she gets this dreamy look..."

"I don't care," she blew a strand of red hair out of her eyes in frustration; "Sirius Black _has _to pay in some way."

He shrugged. His back was starting to hurt. "Can I sit down?" Attempted to distract her. He gestured towards a spot on her bed.

"Go ahead. What _do _they put in Zonko products? The green just won't come off permanently, and I don't want to dye over it."

It was strange – Lily didn't usually act like that, and she was fidgeting almost like a trapped ant, simultaneously trying to un-dye her hair.

"What did you do to your eyes?" he asked instead, noting that they were that usual green.

"I transfigured some glass into contact lenses," she explained, still jerking at her hair, "I don't dare to use magic on my eyes. I'm… I'm terrified I'll accidentally blind myself."

He noticed that she was avoiding his gaze.

Hoping to catch her attention, James pointed his wand at her and uttered something he'd come across in one of the Marauders' spell-sourcing trips to the library. There was a glimmer, and sheen, and instantly a slightly translucent red color spread slowly down from the roots of her hairs to the bottom, effectively making her hair seem like it was before.

"It's just an illusion," he stated, "So you need to perform the spell every day till the prank wears off."

She blinked once. "Flitwick didn't teach this, did he?"

"Er…no. According to the book I read, this is the spell they usually teach Aurors. It can create an illusion of anything – colours are just a small category."

"Can you… teach it to me?"

He couldn't seem to resist a grin that spread across his face. Lily Evans, begging him for help – things seemed to be looking up.

"Don't get all arrogant," she scowled warningly, not missing the momentary grin, "_You'll _be asking me for help one day."

He held up his hands, contriving a small smile. "And Sirius will dye his hair pink and declare to the entire school that he's gay."

They chuckled briefly.

With a bit of disappointment, he noted her persistent refusal to look him in the eye for more than a split second. She couldn't be angry with him, she couldn't be upset, and yet he had a suspicion of what she –no, what both of them- were thinking of. Still, he went ahead with his task, acting the seemly role of Charms tutor as she mastered the Charm with a fluent, liquid ease.

Soon she took off her lenses –he had a glimpse of red; scary- and cast an illusion of her normal green eyes, explaining that lenses didn't exactly suit her – too dry.

He, on the other hand, doggedly persisted in trying to catch her eye. Once she excused herself and went to the bathroom. Thrice she feigned engrossment in a book. He stared at her intently – her eyes stayed downcast, fixed determinedly on the tiny script of the yellowed book. Often they darted up, holding his for brief, tantalizing moments, teasing and running away and returning to the black print, never staying for long.

An awkward silence persisted. Thoughts swam in his eye in a slurred sort of motion, as though they were wading through wet sand, recalling dim lights and a kiss. The pendant, he finally noticed, was strung on the fixed silver chain, the necklace ringing her neck elegantly. He took his time, lazily observing the patterns of blankets that spanned the bed, until he could stand it no more and reached a hand towards her.

He ran his hand through Lily's disguised hair, and that was all. At last she looked up at him, startled, holding his eye for longer than he would have expected. She forced out the words: "What was that for?"

"We can't deny what happened," he wet his lips, eyes downcast, blinking, looking at her. Finally they were on to something.

"I suppose not…"

It seemed to take an eternity for her to think through her reply, and another eternity, and courage, to speak the words. The tension was softening, gradually fading to a glaring clarity. "I really, really like you, James," she said softly, shifting her legs and crossing them, and swallowed. Not of nervousness or fear, but of needing time to think again.

"I don't know how or why it happened, but it just did. I don't… detest you… not anymore."

He'd figured out the latter a long time ago. Right then he didn't feel any sensation of success, relief, or even triumph – just the deep poignancy of the moment, the feeling of finally arriving _here_, almost as if he'd completed a long journey. And in a way, he had.

For a while, he couldn't speak. When he found his voice, he lost his words. So he just nodded and embraced her tightly, holding her till theirs eyes shut, in deep slumber, falling into the firm clasp of dreams and sleep.

* * *

When I awoke a while later, James was still lying beside me. It had been terribly unlike me to confess all my feelings so frankly, yet I _had _done so, and truth to be told, I wasn't regretting it. I closed my eyes, tried to concentrate on turning the lonely 'I' into an 'us', feeling my head turn and my thoughts spiral all over the place in an endless maze.

I got up, untangling myself from him carefully, and opened the window.

Instantly a blast of chill wind rained its icy touches down on my face, having no mercy, whispering wildly like lost spirits. Snow lay in mounds and sheets, glittering a pale white under silver borrowed light. Clouds swathed the ink sky, blotting out the star to Neverland, slowly molding shapes of vapor.

_I really, really like you, James._

So the unbelievable had come true, after all. Years of distrust and dislike, piling up and cementing like sedimentary rocks, crushed to bits by one year of partnership. I'd been barking up the wrong tree since I was fourteen, but James Potter had led me otherwise.

It was two o'clock in the morning, I confirmed. When I shut the window, the bitter cold lingered on my face like a mask, and I looked at the sleeping form on my bed. All of a sudden I wanted to tell someone. Placing a blanket upon him, I quietly slipped out of the room.

The common room was comfortingly silent, like the night before Christmas, and an ember still glowed faintly in the fireplace. I seemed to make no noise, treading on the carpeted floor – I was floating so high up that it seemed like heaven to me, and that I was immune to all things mortal.

Standing in the corridor dressed thinly, came along a sudden awareness of how utterly still and quiet and huge the school seemed suddenly. I felt like a mere shadow treading the enormous grounds, silent and inconspicuous. There was a sense of delight, of trembling adventure, of independence, and the tingling disbelief and joy when my thoughts wandered to the raven haired boy sleeping on my bed.

Past the snoring portraits I trod, fully aware but not caring about the school rules, indifferent and knowing it was unlikely any teacher would spot me at this time. There was a fragile sense about the silence, shaping and instilling itself in me, such that it shattered to pieces, shaking, when a cackle rang out: "Ooh, our precious Head Girl roaming the school after curfew! Naughty, naughty!"

I inhaled suddenly and sharply through my nose, shock and fright flooding my mindset. "Don't tell, Peeves," I begged pathetically, "Just forget you ever saw me."

An evil grin spread across his face as he crossed his legs. "Tell! Why, of course, I forgot all about that… _Tell! _Yes, of course, I'll tell…"

Another japing cackle sounded, and he swooped out of sight. I shuddered, suddenly feeling as if I should turn back, but not wanting to. It was thus that I started my rush to the Room of Requirement, where I was sure no one would think to look for me.

Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk, pause, walk, walk, walk.

Moonlight trickled through partly drawn curtains of an open window, momentarily illuminating my path. The door of the Room lay invitingly ahead, and I stopped dead in my track as I approached it, hearing voices inside. Who would possibly visit the room at this time of the night, apart from me? I didn't want to turn back – Peeves might have told Filch or any of the teachers, and one of them could be there waiting for me…

I opened the door a trifle.

"Are you honestly considering joining them?"

That was Adelaide. I would recognize her voice anywhere.

"I am determined to. An old boy of this school, Lucius Malfoy, is a deatheater, and all I need to do is to pull some strings, get the right connections, and persuade him to help me become one too."

"But _killing _people, torturing them, burning them – I can't believe you enjoy such things."

"I'll do anything to eliminate mudbloods and purebloods who have the gall to marry muggles. The wizard line should be pure, limited to only those who have not a trace of muggle in them. Mudbloods and halfbloods should never have come into the picture, I daresay."

I would have snorted at his words if not for the graveness of this matter – deatheaters were followers of the sadist Tom Riddle, who used a ridiculous name to disguise himself. Yet despite the whole cartoon villain-esque semblance of the whole matter, Tom Riddle wasn't an ordinary wizard, but truly a force to be reckoned with. Who knew, one day people I knew could be killed by him – even _I _could fall at his mercy. Whoever wanted to join him…

The voice was familiar – I could not, still, put a finger on it. Taking a deep breath, I clenched my fingers and pushed the door wide open.

There, sitting on a carpet, was Severus Snape.


	23. so young now

"Snape!"

I swallowed, unsure whether my vision was but a mere trick of the night. Snape and Adelaide! "What are you doing here?" I demanded, striding towards him purposefully.

"I could ask the same of you," he sneered, eyes narrowing to slits in his pale countenance, "I'm sure someone would be interested in why our precious Head girl is wandering out of her dormitory after curfew."

"Stop it," another voice cut in before I could reply; Adelaide turned to me. "You won't tell, Lily, will you?"

"This concerns Voldemort," my voice went shrill, "The bloodthirsty savage who goes about killing people! I have to tell!"

"Lily, please," I saw something in her eyes that was far stronger than any emotion I'd ever experienced before, "You don't understand."

"What is he even doing here?" I pushed further into the ice, "How long have you known each other?"

"Ever since the last day of school," she sighed, "But Lily, you have to listen – Severus is my friend, and… anyway, don't get him expelled!"

Snape only just seemed to realize how much I'd really heard. Taking advantage of my shock at her words, he got up, aiming his wand at me.

Suddenly I was blessed with sharp reflexes. In my fright I dodged, anger suddenly devouring me like a hungry beast. "How dare you!" I narrowed my eyes. His face screwed up slightly in concentration. For a while I thought I was safe – his wand was on the floor, forgotten. I seemed to have forgotten about wandless magic.

My whole body went temporarily numb when I was flung across the room, crashing into a wall with an open window just above where I'd landed. Adelaide gasped. Any higher and I'd have gone flying out into open air, where I would meet my death a hundred feet later.

"Severus, stop!" Adelaide screamed at him, cheeks darkening. "Lily-Lily, how are you?"

No one heeded her words.

Struggling to stand up, I remembered something I'd seen The Marauders do lots of times before they mastered the wandless version of it – something which I thought might come in useful if I happened to be engaged in a duel like this.

"Levi-"

Once again I slammed into the wall. "Just as shameless as your precious Potter is, eh?" Snape sneered. "Listen, mudblood, you will not remember any of this after you leave this room!"

He stepped closer and I realized what he meant. He was going to erase my memory. Make me forget everything that had happened. I couldn't imagine it. A rape of the mind. A wand raised above me, blurred, colours swimming before my eyes. Adelaide floating towards us, face marred with terror. Snape's crooked mocking sneer.

Then everything snapped back into precision.

"Blithering idiot!" I yelled at him.

I flashed to the side. He was shocked into trying to utter the charm as fast as he could, but it bounced off the wall harmlessly, at the very spot I had been in less than a second ago. I started for the door. He growled, spinning around, raising his wand again, but I kicked him as hard as I could and he fell, groaning, sprawling onto the carpeted floor.

Adelaide called out, slightly hysterical, "Lily!"

"Mudblood," I heard a faint, venomous croak as I slipped out. I didn't know if anyone bothered to pursue me, but I ran, large sprints across the marbled floor, and finally slackened my pace to a final rest. My mind only started to register my badly bruised back. I winced. Without knowing it, I'd come to Dumbledore's office.

I stared at the gray stone Gargoyle. It was cold to the touch, a dull iced statue in the midst of all the marble. What was I supposed to do? I thought, inhaling, exhaling, seeing the smoky vapor puff of my breath disintegrate and melt away slowly. Tell him that Snape was a deatheater to be? He wouldn't believe me.

Would he?

Was he even awake?

I released the breath I didn't know I'd been holding, letting out a soft utter of "Mars Bar". Stone on stone grinded out a barely audible creaking, meshing, parting to unmask a short flight of steps which I descended with much reluctance, breathing heavily from the sprint.

"Ah! Miss Evans, I see. What brings you here at this late – or rather, early – hour?"

My whole body jolted at the sudden interruption in the black stillness. I caught a glint of glass spectacles, and suddenly the lights came on, and I saw a bleary but sharp eyed Headmaster robed in dark blue and standing at a flight of two steps that led to a polished redwood door.

"P-professor Dumbledore! I'm so sorry to wake you up, I just thought to see if you happened to be here, and…" My ramble came to an abrupt halt as I stopped to take a breath.

He merely smiled. "Fret not, Miss Evans. Sit down," he gestured indifferently at nothingness, and suddenly a chair appeared, resting there innocently as though it'd been there all its life.

When I was seated, he sat down himself, humming and slowly pouring two cups of coffee. ("Sugar?" "No, but I would like some milk in it…" "Very well, Miss Evans.")

I sipped a bit, not caring for it much except to warm my hands. I noticed that the Headmaster did the same. "Professor," I began uncertainly, but he held up a wrinkled hand.

"Tell me everything in ten words or less," he nodded, "Attention spans waver in the wee hours."

"Snape," I said after some contemplation, "Potential deatheater. I found out. Almost erased my memory."

Blue eyes flashed. "Explain the part about 'potential deatheater', in the same way," he requested.

I paused for a while. "He wants to become one. I overheard him talking."

"Do you have any idea why he wants to become one?" The blue fire had dulled to a smoldering dot in his eyes, mirroring his deceptive calm.

"I'm not sure, except that he hates muggles and muggleborns…"

"You are very sure about this?"

"Very." I nodded affirmatively, fighting the urge to fall asleep.

He stood up. "I think that is all I need to know, Miss Evans." He spoke decisively. "I trust your revisions for the NEWTS are alright?"

My mind seemed to sway with the abruptness and strangeness of the whole encounter. I nodded. My tongue could have flopped down lifelessly on the bottom of my mouth, unable to move and rendering me unable to talk.

"Then good night, Miss Evans. I trust you will not tell anyone of what you have seen tonight."

I took that as my cue to leave.

"Lily? Where'd you go?"

I paused at the fireplace momentarily, taking in the sight of a considerably sleepy James, wanting to run right up and hug him. The bizarreness of the night's events flashed over like an old film in my mind, only without sound… "To see Adelaide," I told him truthfully at last, "I wanted to talk to her."

"You could've talked to me," he came over, glancing at me at first but deciding he couldn't look away and holding my gaze possessively. "You aren't telling me something."

I smiled unconvincingly, curling my toes tightly in my shoes. "It's nothing. I'll go to sleep now, or I'll be tired for tomorrow's lessons." For a while I was tempted to tell him everything, but Dumbledore had sworn me to secrecy, and he'd positively flip if I told him that his arch enemy was a potential deatheater.

He tilted his head a little. "You look…disheveled. Tired. I still think you're not telling me something."

In normal circumstances I would have yelled my head off at him for not trusting me. This wasn't a 'normal circumstance'. It was a circumstance where he was right and I was the one being dishonest. There was a tingle of squeamishness sliding up my spine.

"James, I really don't have time for this," I said, pleading. "All I want to do is sleep."

"No secrets, Lily." He took a step closer, gaze intent.

I could almost see the air between us sizzle with tense sparks, the type you saw when you felt dizzy and closed your eyes, sighting weird coloured lines and squiggles materializing in the expected darkness. For a while I was angry with him for not trusting me, even if I was in the wrong. Then I realized that, seeing someone enter the room tired, sweaty and disheveled at two in the morning was a good cause for suspicion.

"James." I tried the stern approach but it was futile.

"God, Lily." I wasn't sure what he meant by that. And then he stepped closer and hugged me. I winced with a slight exclamation.

He withdrew. "What's wrong?"

"My back-" I halted my explanation, realizing I'd said too much. My back ached from the duel just now.

"Let me see," he insisted.

"James!" I protested, but he would have none of it.

He rolled his eyes, lighting two lamps with his wand, guiding me to the couch, making me sit down. "I don't know why you're doing this, but I'm sleeping now," I persisted, getting up, making a short-lived half-dash to my room.

"Oh, no, Lily, don't even think about it." He informed me, pulling me back forcibly. I flinched at the pain, turning my face away so he wouldn't see, trying to think of an excuse. I fell down the stairs, these bruises were old, I had another fall from a broomstick-

My dressing gown was lifted from the back, and there was no place for embarrassment. "Bloody hell, what the heck happened to you?" he was agitated, fingers flitting from bruise to bruise.

Automatically I said, "I had another fall from a broomstick."

Oh, no, no, no, shit. What had I said?

"I mean," I choked out, in the face of his unwavering quizzical face, "I fell down the stairs."

"Lily, I want the truth," he responded firmly, letting my dressing gown fall back into place.

I mumbled a quick "Snape" and he exploded.

"Snivellus did this to you? Damn that slimy git, Sirius and I almost pitied him for being orphaned and then-"

"He didn't bully me, not exactly," I cut in, "We…dueled. In a way."

"You went out in the middle of the night to duel with the idiot?"

"I…"

We were caught in one of those awkward situations – defiantly staring at each other till neither of us was sure what exactly we were defiant about; till someone broke the silence.

"Look," I closed my eyes, wanting to get it all over with, not heeding promises made to Headmasters or late night duels, stuck in a dimension where I was past caring. The words rambled out before I slipped out of that dimension. "Snape's going to be a deatheater."

And the rest of the words slid out of me before I could help myself.

When I was finished he was all clammed up, seething with righteous anger. "You should've told me." Gritted teeth. Temper syndromes. When had I learnt to recognize the signs of his anger?

"Professor Dumbledore made me promise not to," I countered, angry too for some reason, but at him.

"Promise me you won't tell anyone else." My voice rang out into silence and ignorance.

He was leaning into the couch, not listening.

"Fine, be that way," I snapped at him, standing up, ignoring the shot of pain rankling throughout my back. He didn't answer or do anything as I slammed the door against the frame.

I lay wide-eyed and awake in bed that Saturday morning, tossing and tangling in the covers. The shower pattered in thundering squelches, a small distraction. I shifted, tiny spots of pain fizzing all over my back. The thundering stopped, movements in the bathroom, shutting of a door. I lingered in the bed for a while, heaved myself over the side, grabbed my clothes and all and headed out the door for the bathroom.

It was our usual morning routine. We never talked until after both of us were done getting ready. But I figured that we wouldn't talk even after I was done with the shower and everything.

I took care in drying my back. The bruises had ripened to a harsh red and hurt. I dressed, the heaviness of déjà vu closing in on me.

Thirty minutes before breakfast even started. Suddenly I realized that my waking times had even been tuned according to the time James began his shower.

"Lily?"

James stepped out of his room, frowning, looking at me.

"I turst you had a good sleep," I said coldly.

He smirked. "Very."

And then all forced courtesy fell away. "Fine," my shoulders felt tight as my suddenly parched throat choked up the words, "If that's how you want it to be, egocentric prick, go on."

"You seem to have forgotten that you're the selfish one for thinking you could keep such important news from me."

Hell, fury galore, enter red-headed temper. "News? Or gossip, perhaps, to taunt Snape with? Well, you think I wasn't tempted to? Well, I was, and it's not my fault I didn't want to break my promise to Dumbledore! This-" I threw up my hands in exasperation, "Is a small, trivial, petty matter! Potter, grow up!"

"Small? Trivial? Petty? What the hell? Evans, stop digressing! You were selfish and you know it! You knew how much I hated Snivellus, and you didn't even tell me that he hurt you and-"

Turmoil was boiling in me – indignation, fury, hurt. I clenched the fury that threatened to override my body, blinked back the hurt that attempted to invade my eyes, swallowed down the indignation that nearly spewed out of my mouth. But the lava would not calm and I lashed out, slapping him across the cheek.

"I," I cut in, gritting my teeth, "Am not a helpless damsel who needs an egocentric James Potter to stand up for her when she gets into a duel with someone! The last thing I need is a protective bodyguard! And, if you knew that Snape was a deatheater, you'd blow up – like what you're doing now! You'd hunt him down and hex him and bash him up and his hatred for you will only intensify! When he becomes a deatheater, I bet the first one on his list will be you! You, you, _you_, Potter!"

The last sentence was screamed. An imaginary echo ceded to a deathly heavy silence.

I was breathing heavily. James was standing there, having been silent throughout the whole rant, still cupping his stinging cheek, stoic and stubborn looking and obviously not in agreement with me. Suddenly I wanted to slap him more, slap after stinging slap after stinging slap after stinging slap. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Pound reason into him, tear and break him apart till he found sense somewhere within him, make him understand.

But he just said, in a sneer, "Don't talk about things you don't understand."

And then he had the gall to return to his room, slamming the door forcefully. The entire doorframe rattled and my heart beat on like a saluting gun.

Life stumbled on. A day or two passed, and surprisingly, Dumbledore had taken no action against Snape – none that I knew of, anyway. It was a cold evening of cardigans and warm roast beef when I met said Slytherin drifting along the corridor like a frost breeze, wand tip glancing out of his pocket.

"Got your tattoo yet, Snivellus?" I regarded him acerbically as we brushed by each other. It was meant to be a second's taunt, nothing more, but no.

"In fact," he replied calmly, "Dumbledore encourages it. If all goes well, I'll be initiated a week after graduation."

"Well said. Your sarcasm would make Salazar wither." My voice rose; my ears strained greedily for his next words.

"I speak the truth, mudblood. Dumbledore is always available in his office if you need some affirmation."

That sufficed to halt me in my step. I could have frozen there, along with the salt winter air, before I spun around. He was still there, blank-faced and hand straying tentatively to his wand. "Tell me," my voice cracked a little, "Are you absolutely sure?"

I didn't realize I was walking towards him until I found our bodies uncomfortably close. Hastily I took a few steps back till our eyes were level. His lips tilted into a crooked smile. Tick, tock, tick, tock, his breath seemed to say. Tick, tock.

"Absolutely."

I pursed my lips in denial. "I've never seen a better liar, Snivellus."

My legs whisked me away of their own accord, and I barely heard his reply.

"Here," his voice rang through the corridor, "Shall I prove it to you?"

I continued walking, and so did his voice, sliding smoothly across the turbulent waves erupting across the horizon of my mind. "Veritaserum. I'm sure you've heard of it."

I swallowed, stopping. I had not walked that far after all. I could still make out a crystal vial in his hand, stoppered with cork, beauty in the hands of an artful snake.

"Head Girl, surely you can't resist the chance to prove what you fear?"

Seconds dripped by and turned into roaring waterfalls. The vial spun into sharp vision, glinting genuinely in the ebbing light trickling through stained glass windows.

"Swallow it," I said finally, audible enough for him to hear.

"As you wish."

Without warning, footsteps tarried into earshot. The clearly marked sounds froze Snape in place, but he shoved the vial back into his wand pocket just in time for four figures to spill out from beyond the corner. I barely contained the utterance of James' name before Sirius' voice snapped into the silence. "Dueling, are we?"

There was a split second of bewilderment before I registered his words, realizing what it must look like. Snape still had his hand in the pocket containing his wand and so did I, I realized. Enough to give the impression that we were reaching for our wands and ready to duel. Releasing my grip in unwonted panic, I tried to explain.

"We're not-"

But James already had his fist in Snape's face. "Don't ever," he yelled, "Ever lay a single finger on her, slimy git!"

Something snapped in me. I wasn't sure what it was, just that it was unbridled, fierce, and angry.

In a second I was screaming. "Stop, you pompous idiot! You haven't let me explain!"

To my utter surprise, he did stop. James stared at me like a defiant child. But he was not a defiant child – he was James Potter and I loved him and I would not let him make a fool of himself. In that instant I marched up to him and hissed, "Follow me."

I grabbed his arm, and the silence lost its formality. He complied, walking with me, and I let go of his hand. Behind us the Marauders must have been watching.

We reached the dormitory in wordless company. When we stopped at the portrait, James grabbed my arm, but it was not an unfriendly gesture.

"Look," he started awkwardly.

"I'm sorry," we both said simultaneously.

He smiled. The night was beautiful. I wound my arms around his neck and kissed him.

-------------------------

**-sheepish smile-**

**So... what happened was that I caught an awful dose of writer's block. **

**And I realized how unneccessarily emo this story is. Despairing, I inwardly wailed that I could not possibly go on writing such crap. So I stopped updating.**

**If you're reading this, thank you, I haven't lost you. lesigh. **

**Most of this chapter was written before I stopped writing; I was too busy wallowing in my misery to upload this. The ending, however, I just wrote today. And I've made plenty of edits.**

**But my determination is renewed and though I fear I shan't achieve major success with this story, I _shall _complete it. **

**luv,  
stace**


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